


Healing Hands

by Aintfraidanoghosts



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22217980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aintfraidanoghosts/pseuds/Aintfraidanoghosts
Summary: After Dr. John Smith loses his mentor, he meets Rose Tyler in A&E and finds the strength to move forward.
Relationships: Martha Jones/Mickey Smith, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 71
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoctorRoseTennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorRoseTennant/gifts).



> CW: domestic abuse
> 
> An unfathomably late birthday gift for caitlinhendo, one of the sweetest and most supportive people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing! I hope you enjoy your prompt FINALLY coming to fruition! I’m thinking it will be approximately 5 chapters, and I’m hoping to post weekly/biweekly, depending on how RL goes over here!
> 
> TenRoseForeverandEver is not afraid to beat me into submission over spacing and punctuation and when I use the same words OVER AND OVER AND OVER again and for that I am eternally grateful!

Dr. John Smith tossed a frantic glance toward a heart monitor mounted on the hospital wall, his own heart sinking as he once again saw no regular rhythm. His head jerked back to the patient on the table and he applied the defibrillator panels back to her chest.

“CLEAR!” he shouted again before powering up the panels, only to find the machine not delivering.

“No shock,” the cold, mechanical voice sounded throughout the entire room.

Once more, he glanced at the monitor and felt defeat flooding through him. The line on the screen was flat, a long tone coming from it instead of the beeping he was hoping for.

“Doctor,” his resident, Martha Jones, told him gently, “she’s no CPR, it’s in her chart. There’s nothing more you can do.”

“No,” he whispered, looking down at the familiar face of his mentor and former attending physician, Dr. River Song. She looked so calm, so peaceful, despite the utter chaos surrounding her. It had started as a normal evening in A&E, Dr. Song teasing him good-naturedly about his recently acquired position as an attending physician. Once she had gotten her fill, she had turned to go check on some lab results then collapsed suddenly in cardiac arrest.

Despite being surrounded by medical professionals and in the emergency department of one of the best hospitals in London, they weren’t able to save her.

As Dr. Smith placed the defibrillator panels back into the machine, his own heart thumping away in his chest felt like it was mocking him. “Time of death, 20:43,” he said with a sigh as the staff around him began or clean up the room. Defeated, he pulled off his blue gloves and tossed them in the garbage before elbowing his way through the hoard of staff members who had gathered and into the bright corridor.

He blew out a long, unsteady breath and, scrubbing his hands over his face, tried hard not to let the tears fall. He had other patients to see, he couldn’t afford to let his emotions overtake him. Once he was home he could fall apart. He was a doctor, for Heaven’s sake, and a damn good one at that. It was his job to help people, to _save_ people.

And yet, he couldn’t even save the one person who’d made him into the doctor he was.

“Hey,” a quiet voice came from his side. He glanced down and saw Martha gazing up at him, her dark eyes filled with concern and sympathy. “I can handle all this and contact her family. Why don’t you go home? We can deal with everything else in the morning.”

“No!” He protested so vehemently and quickly that Martha stepped away from him in shock. “No, I’m all right. I’ll just go have some water and I’ll be right as rain.”

“You shift ended twenty minutes ago,” she reminded him gently. 

“I still have patients to see,” he insisted, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “There are charts and dictations and...”

Martha gazed at him searchingly. “All right,” she said slowly, “I’ll take care of the rest of your patients, but there’s an ankle fracture waiting in triage room 2, when you’re ready. She’s a friend, so I can’t treat her. Nurse Redfern has her chart.”

“Great,” he said without even a hint of enthusiasm. Martha squeezed his arm and turned away and he grabbed onto her arm, gently guiding her to look at him. “Martha... thank you.”

“Of course,” she replied with a kind smile. “Go take care of room 2 and then go home and get some rest. Let me take care of everything else.”

“Yes, sir,” he told her weakly with a half-hearted little salute before turning back and heading to the central A&E desk. Nurse Redfern handed him a binder that contained the information he needed on his newest patient. She offered him a sympathetic look as he took the chart from her hands.

“You all right?” she asked.

“I’m always all right,” he replied automatically with a smile that could almost have passed for genuine before opening the binder and turning back towards room 2.

_Rose Tyler_ , he read. _Age: 21. Allergies: None_.

He noted upon a quick scan that she had been to A&E a few times in the last year or so, for stitches or a limb sprain, nothing too serious. Her visit today was far more serious and just as Martha had said, an ankle fracture.

He grimaced upon looking at the x-ray. He would have to consult orthopedics, but it was very likely she would need to remain in the hospital and have surgery to repair such a serious break. He entered the room and prepared himself to deliver the bad news before glancing up at his newest patient.

His breath caught in his throat.

_Blimey._

Despite the fresh bruise on her cheek and the dark shiner under her eye, Rose Tyler was the most _gorgeous_ woman he’d ever seen in his life. She was lying on the gurney, foot wrapped in an ace bandage and propped up on a few pillows. Even with her mussed blonde hair, ruined makeup, and disheveled clothes, her hazel eyes were shining with life and her weak smile when she saw him approach lit up her face.

He shook his head, attempting to clear it. “Hello, Ms. Tyler, I’m Dr. John Smith. I’m an attending A&E physician.” He pulled over the rolling stool and sat down by the head of the gurney. “Might be a silly question, but how are you feeling?”

Rose chuckled, and the sweet, tinkling sound was like a soothing balm to his frazzled psyche. Despite all that had happened that day, he found this young woman’s presence incredibly relaxing and the tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding in his shoulders and neck released immediately. “Pretty bloody good now that the pain killers have kicked in.”

John chuckled a bit in return. “Quite right. Now, can you tell me what happened? From the looks of things, you’re fairly beat up. Fall?”

Rose’s features immediately shut down, and she glanced down at her hands as they fiddled with the zip of her hoodie. “Yeah, um... a fall. I fell.”

He stared at her for a moment, reaching over and covering her fidgeting hands with his. “Is... that all? A fall?”

“Yeah,” Rose replied as she raised her chin and met his gaze, her eyes set and determined. John felt her hand clench beneath his. “A fall. But a fall that will _never_ happen again.”

John nodded and squeezed her tense fist. He _knew_ she was concealing something, that this wasn’t the result of a simple fall, but he wasn’t going to push her for more than she was ready to give. “Good. But by the looks of this x-ray, I think your ankle is going to require a surgical repair. It’s... blimey, I’m surprised you’re _this_ lucid even with painkillers.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” she admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, no doubt in my mind,” he replied with his own answering smile. “I’m going to consult with an orthopedic doctor, but my gut instinct is that we’re going to have to admit you until surgery. After that, you’ll stay for a day or two until physical therapy says you’re clear to go home.”

“I have to stay?” Rose asked, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I know it’s not ideal. But we want to make sure you’re healed so that you don’t have another fall and wind up back at A&E.”

“Yeah, we don’t want _that_.” Rose rolled her eyes.

“Trust me, I understand. They’re paying me and even _I_ don’t want to be here,” he replied with a sardonic chuckle. “Especially today of all days.” He felt the grief rising up again as he thought of Dr. Song, but he fought to push it back and focus on being a professional doctor in his patient’s presence. 

However, it seemed his patient was too perceptive by half, her eyes immediately softening as she reached over to cover his hand just like he had done for her earlier. “Hey,” she said in a quiet voice. “You all right?”

John met her questioning gaze and swallowed against the lump in his throat. How could it be that she was concerned about _him_ when _she_ was the one sitting here with a shattered ankle and Heaven knew what other host of injuries? Something in her empathetic eyes, in the warmth of her hand on his, and the feeling of sheer comfort that she inspired in him made him want to blurt out everything. Still, he knew he _really_ shouldn’t share something so personal with a patient. It would be completely unprofessional and unethical and just plain _unfair_ to put that all on this sweet, strong, impossible young woman.

She squeezed his hand and he came out of his mental self-flagellation to find her gorgeous hazel eyes fixed on his. He let out a breath and laced their fingers together, drawing strength from the touch of her palm against his. “I... lost someone today. Someone important to me.”

She gasped. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Smith,” she whispered. “Your wife? Girlfriend?”

He let out a weak chuckle. “No, no... _definitely_ not. A colleague, actually. My attending when I was in medical school. She... _well_... she made me the doctor that I am today. And if you said that to her, she would get horribly offended and insist she wouldn’t accept the blame for it.” Rose grinned at that and he felt his own face stretch to match. “She was brilliant, and talented... and I should have been able to save her.” His voice cracked at his last words and he found himself unable to hold Rose’s gaze any longer. He let his eyes fall to their joined hands and noticed for the first time that his thumb was unconsciously stroking against her knuckle.

Rose tucked the finger of her free hand under his chin and tilted his face up until their eyes met. “You can’t save everyone, you know. That’s not realistic. And if you keep taking responsibility for everyone you can’t save, like you’re doing right now, it will destroy you.”

John nodded but didn’t reply, just continued to stare at their joined hands. It was quiet in the room for several moments, but it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. He took comfort simply being in her presence, in the gentle skin contact, and in her warm breath stirring the air between them.

“I didn’t fall.”

His eyes captured hers when she broke the silence. “What happened?”

“My boyfriend,” he scoffed. “Well, _ex_ -boyfriend now. He came home drunk and angry at me for using my pay this week to take care of our rent, our heat, and food.”

“How dare you,” he replied gently.

“I know, what was I thinking?” she said with a small shake of her head. “I finally got sick of it and was leaving to go back to my mum’s when he pushed me down the stairs.”

His chest became hot with anger at the thought of someone intentionally causing Miss Tyler harm. “I’m sorry.” He forced the words out calmly as he could manage while he fought to get his emotions under control. “Do you want to press charges?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “I... haven’t decided yet. Part of me never wants to see the wanker again, but part of me wants him to pay for what he’s done.” She sighed. “I should wait until I’m more clear-headed I think.”

“Okay. If that’s your choice, that’s what we’ll do. Is his name blocked from visiting you?”

“Yeah, took care of that before I even got in the room.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank _you_ for telling _me_.”

They shared another smile before John noticed the time glaring at him from the bright display on her digital wristwatch. “It’s late,” he told her, surprised at the disappointment in his voice. He could have stayed there all night, chatting like old mates and keeping their respective demons at bay while just enjoying one another’s company... dangerous as something like that was. “I should let you get some rest. You’ll be feeling sleepy soon from the pain medication. I’ll get started on your admission, and a doctor from orthopedics should be down to talk to you shortly. If you need _anything_ , Miss Tyler...” he dug around in his pocket for his notepad and pen and scribbled out his mobile number, “you call or text, all right?”

“All right,” she replied, tucking the paper into her pocket. “Thanks for everything, Dr. Smith.”

“John,” he said, giving her hand a comforting pat before standing. “Call me John.”

“Then you should call me Rose,” she offered with a bright grin, the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her teeth causing a flush of warmth to permeate his entire body.

“Rose,” he replied, trying to keep the breathy quality out of his voice. “I’ll come check on you tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to,” Rose protested. “I’m sure you have more important things to do...”

“Rose,” he interrupted, just as he made it to the doorway, “there is _nothing_ more important to me than making sure you’re all right.”

Rose ducked her head. It was hard to tell underneath the bruising on her face, but it looked like she was blushing. “Thanks, John. I’ll see you later, then?”

He grinned at the hopeful tone in her voice. “Not if I see you first.”

He turned and left the room, a barely perceptible skip in his step as he made his way to the nurse’s station. He handed Rose’s chart to Nurse Redfern and explained that he was consulting with orthopedics on her case. He walked away with his hands tucked in his pockets and whistling a nonsensical tune as he made his way to the locker room.

Despite the appeal of being able to go home and sleep, and longing for the oblivious from grief unconsciousness would provide, something about the quiet strength Rose exhibited in that exam room had inspired him. He knew he would have to face the aftermath of Dr. Song’s death eventually, and he resolved to take a small but significant step in coming to terms with what happened.

He stopped off at a nearby supply room and easily located an empty cardboard box. Chin held high and determination coloring his every move, he made his way to the locker room and began to collect Dr. Song’s belongings.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Rose get to spend a little more time together!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I didn’t have TenRoseForeverandEver I don’t know what I would do! She’s the bestest beta EVER!

The events of the previous day immediately came flooding back to John the moment he awoke from the fitful sleep he’d managed. He braced himself for the crushing weight of his loss to slam into him but as he lay there in his bed, it simply didn’t come. He felt sadness and regret, but it was tempered by a tentative sort of _hope_ , the feeling accompanied by Rose Tyler’s face flashing through his mind. Suddenly eager to get to the hospital, he got ready for work as quickly as he could so he could stop and check on her before his shift began.

He phoned the orthopedic floor as he drove in and confirmed that Rose had been moved there sometime during the day. Nurse Oswald gave him her room number and, with nearly thirty minutes to spare before his shift began, he found himself staring, dumbfounded, into her room.

She was sleeping, which was not unusual in a hospital, her face relaxed and her hair spread out against her pillow like a golden halo. Her breathing was slow and even, and despite the purple bruising on her face, she was absolutely _enchanting_ to watch.

He’d been staring at her like an idiot for several minutes, and he’d just decided to stop in on her later in the evening, when she suddenly drew in a sharp breath, her brow furrowing in sleep, and a small groan escaping her lips.

“No,” she murmured, distress coloring her lovely features. “Jimmy, stop...”

John darted into the room and was immediately at her bedside. He reached over with one hand and entwined his fingers with hers before brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes with the other. “Rose,” he whispered. “Rose, wake up, you’re dreaming.”

Her eyes shot open and she stared at him, open mouthed, and he schooled his features into a reassuring smile the minute her eyes made contact with his.

“Hello,” he said, letting his fingertips linger against her face just a fraction too long.

He watched as Rose's eyes darted around the room as she reoriented herself and gathered her wits, realizing she was in the hospital and presumably not with her disgusting ex-boyfriend. When their gazes met for the second time, her entire body relaxed and the tired, sweet smile she gave him made his knees wobble. “Hello,” she replied. “You really didn’t have to come check on me, you know.”

“Of course I did!” he protested. “How could I live with myself if I didn’t make sure you were settled in all right?”

Rose’s grin shifted into all teasing tongue and teeth and full pink lips and it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. It made the entire room brighter and the heavy weight in John’s chest lighten considerably. He let his thumb brush gently over her knuckles and covered their joined hands with his free one. 

“Careful,” she teased gently. “or someone in this room is gonna write a glowing review on the hospital website. ‘Greatest doctor ever, extra attentive and thorough... _handsome_.’” 

Was... was she flirting with him?

“Oi,” he replied back just as teasing. “That’s _devastatingly_ handsome. If you’re gonna do something, do it right...”

Rose giggled and John was certain his expression was bordering on _moony_. He’d spent less than an hour with this woman, how could he possibly be so smitten, so soon? And yet, here she was... beautiful, interesting, adorable, and possessing a quiet strength and incredible spirit that was _shining_ out of her like a glowing, golden light.

She was both wonderful and oh, so dangerous at the same time.

“Everything all right then?” he asked. “Are you comfortable? Do you need a pillow, blanket?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Everything is... just fine.”

“Oi!” a sharp voice practically shrieked from the other side of the privacy curtain. “Eastenders is on, could you keep your bloody voices down?”

Rose met his gaze with a forced smile. “Roommate,” she explained in a low voice. “Like I said... everything is fine!”

John tried not to chuckle at how adorable she was, trying to be nice about the harpy she was sharing a room with. He made a mental note to see if he could get her into a private room before he went down to begin his shift.

“So, tell me how you know Martha,” he veered into much safer territory than her irritating roommate.

They chatted until he had to reluctantly leave to begin his shift in A&E. In that time, he’d learned that Martha and Rose had been close friends all through school, but had drifted apart when Rose had started dating Shite-for-brains (as John had begun referring to her ex-boyfriend in his head). The more he learned about her and her past, the more proud he was of her for recognizing and escaping her situation before it escalated further than it had. Despite the short time he’d spent with her, he found himself thoroughly impressed by her spirit and her strength, and realized how desperate he was to simply spend time with her. It was with some difficulty that he left her for the evening. Still, Rose had said he was welcome to stop by during the night if he had some downtime, and he practically floated all the way to the nurse’s station.

“Clara,” he called to Nurse Oswald. “I have a small favor to ask of you...”

******

John was actually smiling when he finally made it to A&E and found Martha so they could go over their workload.

“Thank you for taking care of Rose last night,” Martha told him after their initial greetings. “I don’t know how much she told you about why she’s here, but...”

“About her ex?”

“Jimmy, yeah,” Martha confirmed his earlier suspicions. “He was awful, but they had been together since we were in school. He tried convincing her to drop out and move in with him because he thought his rubbish band was ‘totally gonna make it.’”

John felt his jaw drop. “And she _listened_ to him?”

Martha snorted. “Well, she didn’t leave school, but she did move in with him and had to work full-time in addition to uni to support his sorry arse. I’m glad she came to her senses.” Martha broke off for a moment and stared at him. “You made quite the impression, you know.”

“I... _did_?” he stammered, his voice going squeaky in the cursed way it often did when he was nervous.

“Yeah.” Martha continued to stare at him searchingly. “She deserves the _best_ , do you understand me?”

“Erm... yes?”

“And she might not be ready to start something for a while... do you understand _that_?”

“Martha, I assure you, I’m not...”

“Maybe not _now_ , but you should have seen your face when I mentioned her. All I’m saying is that, should something happen...” Martha broke off for a moment and tugged at the lapels of his white coat so their eyes could meet more directly. He was shocked at how... _menacing_ this petite young woman could look and he gulped unconsciously. “You _will_ treat her like the absolute treasure that she is, or you will not only have to deal with me, Mickey, and our entire friend circle but also... Jackie Bloody Tyler.”

John could only guess that his attempt at a brave face was less than convincing to someone who knew him as well as Martha knew him. “Rose’s mum I presume?”

“Oh, yes. And trust me, you do _not_ want to be her enemy.”

John chuckled as he pulled away from Martha, straightening his coat and trying not to let his nerves show. “Martha, please. I am a respected physician and I _have_ in fact dated before. I won’t be intimidated by the _mother_ of a girl I like.”

“So you admit you like her?”

_Shit_. “Anyway... how would you like to handle the night’s work load, hmm?”

Martha gave him a good hard stare before she started talking, her tone still wary as they discussed how they thought their night would go most efficiently. Out of his entire team of residents, Martha was certainly the most competent, the most organized, and the one who handled the stress of the hospital with the most grace. She had fallen into the de facto leadership position and worked with him all year to turn their team into a well-oiled machine.

“I spoke with Dr. Song’s family,” Martha added gently when their conversation was coming to a close. “This morning.”

John sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t think I properly thanked you for handling that, Martha. It helped tremendously.”

“It was no problem. They called earlier and left the details. Her services will be the day after tomorrow. All of the residents have offered to cover so that you can go.”

“Oh, now that’s quite brilliant. Pass along my gratitude in that ridiculous group text you have going where you do nothing but complain about me, will you?”

Martha gave him a small smile as she swept off to handle the few patients who were waiting in triage, while John made his way back to the patients already in rooms and needing their treatments. He buried himself in his work to avoid thinking about Dr. Song’s funeral arrangements, stitching up a few lacerations and ordering a few diagnostic tests. It wasn’t until the usual middle-of-the-night lull that everything came flooding back to him.

He suddenly had an overwhelming need to see Rose. 

He knew she was most likely asleep, but he could peek in on her. Just to be sure she was okay. In and out in less than two minutes and no one would be the wiser. Before he could talk himself out of it, he made his way up to the orthopedic floor. He stopped off at the nurse’s station and before he could even ask, nurse Williams caught his eye and smiled at him knowingly.

“Room 353,” he said. “We moved her a couple hours ago.”

“Oh, Rory Williams, you are _brilliant_ ,” he praised, reaching over the desk to ruffle the young man’s hair affectionately before striding down the hall to her new, private room.

He was surprised to see her sitting up in bed, a film playing on the wall-mounted television across from her. He took a minute to lean against the door jamb and observe her silently. She was watching a blonde woman who looked vaguely familiar try on a variety of different dresses. Rose had a small smile on her face as she watched intently, and he was happy to see her somewhat relaxed despite all she had been through.

“Nice digs,” he broke the silence. “Could use some photos, shelves, maybe a few knickknacks floating around. Love a good knickknack.”

Rose turned to the door and shot him a happy grin. “Thanks! Yeah, the unit director came in earlier and said they were moving me to a private room. Do you think they somehow knew about my roommate troubles?”

“No idea!” John tried to school his features into an innocent expression as he made his way over to the recliner that sat alongside her hospital bed. “Sounds fishy though. You should file a formal complaint with the NHS.”

“I intend to,” she replied, the false gravity in her voice belied by the playful twinkle in her eyes.

John reached over and laced their fingers together, and was quite pleased when Rose gently squeezed his hand in response. “How are you feeling?”

“You mean in the six hours since you last saw me?” she teased gently. “Better. The pain is manageable... if not pleasant.”

“Did they schedule your surgery yet?”

“It’s in a couple of days,” she replied, waving a hand dismissively. “What about you, John? How are _you_?” 

He sighed, fighting internally over needing to unload and not wanting to burden this lovely woman who was battling her own demons. Some of his hesitation must have shown on his face, because Rose began running her free hand up and down his arm in a sweet, comforting motion. “This doesn’t go one way, you know. You don’t need to be afraid to talk to me.”

“Afraid? Please, Rose, I’m not afraid...” he began before trailing off at the smirk on her face. He huffed indignantly before resigning himself to the inevitable and he let his brave facade crumble. “Dr. Song, the person I told you about yesterday?” Rose nodded. “Her services are... _well_ ,” he glanced at his watch, “tomorrow.” He glanced down at their joined hands before he continued talking. “I suppose I _am_ afraid. She had a husband and kids and a life and...” He swallowed against the lump in his throat and tried to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. “...it’s my fault that they’ll never get to see her again.”

“That’s _not_ your fault!” Rose’s responding tone was so vehement that his eyes snapped back to hers, stunned. “You did _everything_ you could to save her, there’s no doubt in my mind that you didn’t.”

“How can you possibly know that? You met me less than a day ago. For all you know, I’m a completely rubbish doctor.”

Rose huffed. “Would a rubbish doctor come check on his patient even after she’s been transferred off his service? Or make sure she gets away from an annoying roommate?”

“Now _that_ you can’t prove was me,” he said, feeling the corners of his mouth turn up slightly.

“Of course it was you, who else would it be? Martha? Speaking of, Martha also thinks the world of you. And I’ve learned to trust her judgement on people, especially over the last few days.” Rose chuckled ruefully. “She warned me about Jimmy for years. But I wasn’t ready to give up on him. I thought I could save him.” She gave him a small smile. “Blimey, we’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“That we are,” he agreed. Rose’s smile widened, but he felt his heart drop suddenly when she winced and sucked in a breath. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, fine,” Rose managed to breathe out. “Just due for my next dose of pain medication soon.” 

He frowned. “You aren’t overexerting yourself, are you? Because you could aggravate your injury or worse, damage other structures around the ankle and make it harder for you to heal. You need to listen to your body, Rose.”

“Yes, Dr. Smith,” she replied and he gulped, unable to continue his ramble as all of his circulation had redirected south at the husky quality her voice had taken on.

_Well_ , he thought to himself. _That’s new._

“Right,” he managed to choke out. “Good, yes, that’s... very good.” He leaned back slightly in the recliner and stuck his trainer into the space between the footrest and the chair, causing the footrest to extend to a much more comfortable position. “So... tell me about this film then,” he abruptly changed the subject in an equal attempt to distract himself from the stirrings she caused in him and her from the pain in her ankle.

“ _27 Dresses_. Katherine Heigl plays a bridesmaid who’s been in 27 weddings. ‘S cute. Not exactly _Love Actually_ but these TVs only get about eight channels anyway...”

He let the musical lilt of Rose’s voice calm his frazzled nerves as he leaned back in the recliner and relaxed into the semi-comfortable cushioning. They kept a running commentary throughout the remainder of the movie and John made a special effort to making Rose laugh. Nurse Williams gave him a knowing look when he came in to administer Rose’s medications, and he was grateful that his pager and cell phone remained quiet as long as they did. 

He was in the middle of a long lecture about the medical inaccuracies of the show _Grey’s Anatomy_ when he noticed Rose had gone suspiciously silent. He glanced over to the bed and saw that she was sound asleep, yet had not relinquished the hold on his hand. He grinned and settled back to watch the remainder of the show, his fitful sleep catching up with him as he felt his eyes slide shut.

_I’ll just take a little power nap,_ he thought to himself, settling down into the recliner. _Half an hour, then I’ll leave and let Rose sleep..._

******

Martha Jones left the on-call room at the conclusion of her shift, smoothing down her hair and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It had been an uncharacteristically quiet night in A&E, and she had managed to catch a few hours of sleep without her pager or cell phone going off. She decided to go and see Rose for a few minutes before heading home to Mickey. She waved at the orthopedic nurses as she made her way to the private room Rose had excitedly texted her about the night before.

The sight that greeted her when she got to the opened door made her stop suddenly in her tracks. None other than her attending physician was curled up in the bedside recliner, sound asleep, his hand wrapped protectively around a sleeping Rose’s. She was also sleeping more peacefully than Martha would have ever expected her to be, only two days after her awful (and thankfully ex) boyfriend had hurt her so badly. Someone had draped a blanket over Dr. Smith in the night, and the sight was so sweet and serene that Martha decided not to wake them and slinked as quietly as possible away from the room.

If any two people deserved a few moments of peace, it was definitely the two of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day Dr. Smith has been dreading has arrived. Will he get by with a little help from his friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TenRoseForeverandEver is a mad awesome beta MACHINE!

John heaved a deep sigh as he checked his appearance in the mirror. The black suit he had chosen was perfectly fine. He had paired it with a crisp white shirt and grey tie that brought out the faint grey pinstripes that ran through the fabric. He had purchased the suit for his residency interviews and never really had the opportunity to wear it except for the occasional wedding or hospital dinner. Today, he had to wear it for Dr. Song’s funeral services.

He’d slept very little in the hours leading up to her service, and what little he’d managed to get was fitful and restless. He ran a hand over the stubble growing on his cheek and sighed at the dark shadows under his eyes. His hair looked flawless, as usual, but the rest of him… he supposed it was as good as it was going to get. 

As he drove to the church, the gnawing pit in his stomach began to grow. Not only was he saying goodbye to his mentor, but also facing her family and admitting that he was the one who hadn’t been able to save her. Martha was planning to attend, and having her there would help immensely. Still, loathe as he was to admit it, he _desperately_ wished Rose could be there as well.

Just the thought of her slowed his hammering heart. His chest flooded with warmth and he felt the small smile spread across his lips as her lovely face flashed through his mind.

_Blimey,_ he thought as he pulled into the car park. _That’s..._ different.

He’d never before considered any woman he’d dated as _calming_. It’s not that they’d been _stressful_ per se... but he did have a pattern of attracting what some would call “high-maintenance” girlfriends. John had never dated anyone he considered a safe haven, a comfort... someone he felt that he could be his complete self around without fear of their reaction. Then came Rose, a woman he’d known for barely three days... a woman he wasn’t even dating and she had already shifted his entire perspective on what a relationship should mean. But oh, he wanted to date her, and was willing to wait to do so for as long as she needed. She was worth waiting for.

He took in a deep, steadying breath, letting thoughts of Rose calm his anxieties enough that he was able to exit his vehicle. He spent a few unnecessary seconds fiddling with his key fob and moving his billfold and cell phone to various pockets, trying to find the most comfortable spot for everything. When he finally ran out of reasons to dawdle in the car park, he pulled on his long, dark trench coat, locked the car, and made his way towards the church.

“Doctor!” he heard a familiar voice call from behind him.

He smiled a bit at the sound of Martha’s voice, grateful that she’d arrived and found him so quickly. He turned around to greet her, but the sight before him somehow simultaneously stole all of the words out of his mind and knocked the wind out of his chest.

Martha was pushing a hospital-issued wheelchair, and sitting in it was a familiar blonde he’d come to know quite well over the last few days. She was dressed in black trousers and a jumper, her hair falling simply but elegantly over her shoulders and makeup hiding the worst of her bruising. Her injured foot was propped up on the chair attachment, and she was grinning at what must have been his completely gobsmacked expression.

As the two of them approached, he looked from Martha’s face to Rose’s repeatedly. He knew his jaw was hanging open in shock, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. The smile Rose was giving him was completely worth it, and even Martha’s sly grin was helping to turn the dreary, grey, terrible day into something considerably brighter. He could have sworn the sun was blinding when Rose reached out and grasped onto his hand.

“ _How_?” he finally managed to sputter out.

Rose’s grin widened. “Martha busted me out.”

He cast a sharp look at his resident, who had the good sense to at least look somewhat guilty. “Rose, you’re having surgery tomorrow! This is incredibly reckless, you could get sick around all these people, or you could get hurt!”

“She’s on prophylactic antibiotics,” Martha explained. “And the only way she would get hurt is if she doesn’t stay right in this wheelchair the entire time. Right, Rose?”

“Yes, Dr. Jones,” she replied dutifully.

“So stop your worrying, Dr. Smith,” Martha told him. “Besides, I couldn’t keep her in that hospital otherwise.”

“What? Why?” 

Rose’s cheeks flushed, noticeable even under her makeup. “I dunno... I just had a feeling you could use a few friendly faces, is all.”

John stood there for a moment, staring at Rose with what must have been the most daft expression of his entire life on his face. He was torn between wanting to lift her out of the wheelchair in a massive hug and bending over to snog her senseless. Neither option was completely feasible, so instead he crouched down in front of the wheelchair and cupped her uninjured cheek in his hand. She reached up and covered his hand with hers, leaning forward as he gently pulled her towards him. He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closing against the rush of emotions that swept through him at the gentle contact. 

He let out a shaky breath before he spoke. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome,” she said in a low voice, moving her hands to his shoulders and tugging him towards her. Before he knew it, he was pulled into Rose’s warm embrace. The positioning was slightly awkward, with him still crouched in front of the wheelchair, but he wrapped his arms around her as tight as he dared and buried his face in her neck, inhaling her sweet scent and letting the feelings he had kept buried for days _finally_ come to the surface.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted, his voice quavering. 

“You can do anything,” she whispered, rubbing her hands soothingly over his back. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and blinked his tears back furiously, letting the strength and resolve he drew from Rose’s touch calm and center him. 

He reluctantly pulled back. That brief exchange had encompassed both of the sweetest and most painful moments of his life, but when he lifted his damp eyes to Rose's face, her reassuring smile gave him just enough resolve to make it through. 

"I believe in you," she murmured.

“Glad one of us does,” he said before pressing a swift kiss to her forehead. “What do you say, Rose Tyler? Dr. Jones? _Allons-y_!”

******

The service was short and emotional, Dr. Song’s husband giving a moving eulogy that had everyone, including John, wiping their eyes. He was grateful for Rose’s unwavering presence next to him, never letting go of his hand and running her free one soothingly up and down his arm at the exact moments he needed a little extra comfort. This strange, unspoken connection between them was completely new to him and completely wonderful, and he was incredibly grateful for it that day, in particular. 

After the service concluded, the Song family left for a private burial while everyone else made their way to a nearby hotel for the wake. He loaded the wheelchair into Martha’s trunk after she somehow managed to help Rose into the car without incident. He followed them closely once they were on the road, his entire body feeling like a giant tangle of nerves now that Rose was out of his reach.

He’d have time later to analyze this uncharacteristic dependence on a woman he’d known less than a week. Right in that moment, he allowed himself to be selfish for once and accept the comfort and serenity Rose brought to his existence.

Thankfully, the ride to the hotel was short, and he felt the tension leave his shoulders as he opened up the door to Martha’s car and carefully guided Rose into the wheelchair. She maneuvered brilliantly, managing to not put any weight on her injured ankle as she pivoted with the grace of a professional athlete into the seat.

She must have noticed his stunned expression, because she rewarded him with a cheeky grin before she responded. “Jericho Street Junior School Under 7’s gymnastics team. I got the bronze.”

_Blimey,_ he thought as he watched Martha adjust Rose’s leg into the elevated stirrup and he fought the urge to snog that tongue touched grin silly.

Despite being in Rose’s and Martha’s comforting presences, he grew more and more on edge the closer they drew to the hotel. He knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid Dr. Song’s husband and sons; they would eventually be at the wake to receive condolences. As they joined the crowd of people in the ballroom, he began to fidget, tugging on his ear, ruffling his hair, adjusting his tie... anything that could keep some part of him moving and not maddeningly still.

“Hey,” he heard a soft voice beckon. A warm hand slipped into his, fingers threading together in a perfect fit that soothed his anxiety and caused his galloping heart to slow. He glanced down at Rose, her lovely face etched with concern. “‘S all right. We’re here... you’re not alone.”

He felt some of the tension in his shoulders melt away as he blew out a breath and nodded. Rose kept her hand in his, the touch of their palms a warm comfort he was able to focus on instead of his nerves. Martha left them briefly and returned with a glass of white wine, a tall bubbling ginger ale that she handed to Rose, and a shorter glass that contained a clear beverage. She passed the drink across the table to him. “Gin and tonic,” she told him simply.

He frowned at her. “No banana daiquiris?”

Martha shot him a glare. “It’s a funeral, Doctor. They don’t serve banana daiquiris.”

Rose snorted. “So much for an open bar!”

John chuckled at her, the chuckle turning into a beam as she raised her glass. “To Dr. Song?”

He and Martha exchanged a small smile before they also raised their glasses. “To Dr. Song!” they echoed.

******

Rose kept a firm grip on his hand, keeping him tethered to reality as he focused on the feel of her skin rather than the guilt swelling in his chest. It worked tremendously well until he saw that Dr. Song’s husband and sons had arrived. John sighed, downing the rest of his drink, and the three of them made their way over to join the small crowd that had gathered around the three gentlemen. It didn’t take them long to come face-to-face with Professor Robert Song, who taught physics at Oxford and had always been a source of happy conversation for John’s mentor. Their two sons, Peter and Ian, were strapping young men who he’d heard countless stories about. He drew in a fortifying breath before finally letting go of Rose’s hand and offering his to Professor Song.

“Hello,” he began, grasping onto the older man’s hand and willing his own voice not to tremble. “I don’t believe we’ve met, but...”

“Dr. Smith,” he stated. “Of course. River spoke of you frequently.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“The hair gave it away.”

Rose chuckled, quickly covering it up with a cough. He glanced down at her and had to try very hard to keep his mood solemn. “This is my colleague, Dr. Martha Jones, and our friend, Rose Tyler.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Professor Song,” Rose said, reaching up also to grasp onto his hands after Martha had given her own condolences. “I’ve heard your wife was an extraordinary woman.”

“Oh, she was,” he agreed with a small smile. “And please, all of you, it’s Robert.”

“Dr. Smith was the physician that worked so hard that night,” Martha added. John turned a sharp glare in her direction, but she kept talking. “He was completely brilliant, running the code, but in the end...”

“I couldn’t save her,” John blurted out. “I’m so sorry, Robert. I tried...”

He could feel the hot tears welling up in his eyes, and Robert surprised him by pulling him into an embrace. “I know, son,” he said in a low tone. “There is no doubt that you did everything you could. But my wife was stubborn. No matter what, I couldn’t convince her to change that damn living will.” 

He pulled back and cast a searching look at John. “River didn’t tell many people, she hated being fussed over, but she was... very ill, in her last days.”

John gaped at him. “ _What?_ ”

Robert nodded. “She couldn’t stand the idea of people treating her any differently because of it. We tried hard, but she ultimately decided to end treatment and let the pieces fall as they would. She wanted to work as long as possible and pretend everything was normal. She had many reasons for refusing CPR, but mainly it was because the treatments made her bones extremely brittle. She knew there was a high chance of her ribs or sternum breaking with chest compressions and causing internal damage and just making the end that much more painful.” He took in a deep breath and shook his head, a small smile on his face. “She was quite brilliant, but that burden of knowledge always weighed on her.”

John shook his head. “I can’t believe it. She seemed... fine.”

“She reserved all her energy for work, and she put on a good facade,” Robert chuckled, clapping John on the shoulder. “Please know that this was in no way your fault, Dr. Smith. River spoke so highly of you as a physician and as a student. There was nothing else you could have done differently.” He squeezed John’s shoulder in a comforting, paternal manner. “Thank you, for caring so much. She was very lucky to have known you.”

John smiled, the expression coming far easier than it had in the last few days as the weight on his shoulders finally began to lift. He covered the hand on his shoulder with his own. “I think I was the lucky one.”

Robert returned John’s expression. “Thank you all for coming. Now, go enjoy the food and drinks. Imagine what River would say, seeing us all standing around moping. She intended for this to be a celebration of her life, and that starts with all of you enjoying the open bar!”

******

John helped Martha wheel Rose back into her hospital room after the wake was over. The trio tried to act nonchalant, like it was perfectly normal for two doctors to be escorting a patient around on a tour of the hospital in their funeral wear. However, the indifferent air they worked so hard to maintain in the halls dissipated as soon as they crossed the threshold into her room and the three of them burst into giggles.

“I can’t believe we pulled that off!” Rose said through her laughter. She and Martha high-fived as the meaning of her words dawned on John.

“Hang on!” He glanced between them, raising his eyebrows in false astonishment. “You didn’t _actually_ have permission to leave the hospital, did you?”

Rose’s eyes held a glorious, defiant glimmer that John decided, there and then, that he absolutely adored. “I’m an adult, I don’t need anyone’s _permission_ to do anything. Now get your arse out of here so I can change and Martha can get me back in bed!”

Wagging his finger playfully at the pair, he left the room and headed towards the nurse’s station. He felt lighter than he had for days, despite the emotional toll of the day, and some of it must have shown on his face because Clara did a very obvious double take when she saw him.

“Evening, Dr. Smith,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “You’re looking... well.” 

“Thank you, Clara.” 

“How was the funeral?”

He stared at her for a moment, the slight upturn in the corners of her mouth giving her away. “You knew, didn’t you? Was the entire staff in on it?”

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” she replied with a smile. “Will we see you tomorrow for Rose’s surgery?”

“Oh, yes! I’ll be here with rings on my fingers and bells on my toes!” As soon as the words passed his lips he wrinkled his nose, hating the way they felt against his teeth. “Oh, Clara, remind me never to say that again.”

The young woman laughed and shook her head. “Enjoy your night, Dr. Smith. I have to go off for change-of-shift report. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

John watched Clara make her way over to Rory and greet him warmly. He felt a sense of comfort knowing Rose was in such capable hands, Clara and Rory being two of the nurses he trusted immensely, and he was pleased as punch they were part of Rose’s care team.

Suddenly, it dawned on him that he didn’t know a single detail about Rose’s surgery, except that it was sometime the next day. It was his day off, so he had no concern about not being able to be with Rose both before and after surgery, but he wanted to be sure he made it to the hospital early if she was one of the first scheduled. He quickly scanned the desk and easily found the surgical printout for the next day. Rose’s name was somewhere in the middle of the long list, a noon surgery, which meant she would be headed down around eleven AM. His eyes slid over to the name of the doctor that would be performing the surgery and he cringed.

Of course, who else would it be? _Jack bloody Harkness_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some tooth-rotting fluff for you all! Enjoy!
> 
> Many thanks to TenRoseForeverandEver, without whom my words would just be incoherent babble interspersed with the occasional “NOW KISS” just before I smush their faces together. She’s the only reason I have an actual story here!!!!

Over his last four years of being an attending physician, John had prided himself on being a fair, competent teacher to the residents. He was consistently proud of the doctors that came from his tutelage, and part of what set him apart was that he kept them busy but refused to overwhelm them with what were ultimately his responsibilities. Certainly. they learned a great deal and worked with him directly, but no one could ever accuse Dr. John Smith of pawning his job off onto his residents so he could spend more time at the country club. Therefore, he felt very little remorse in letting them perform a bit of espionage on his behalf so he knew exactly when it was best to have a quick word with Rose’s surgeon.

He supposed he could call Jack a friend, even though the man drove him barmy on a regular basis. They’d gone to medical school together and remained in touch throughout their residencies and even during Jack’s extra instructional years. He’d earned a reputation as a competent orthopedic surgeon with his near flawless surgical stats and a renowned bedside manner. 

A bedside manner that verged on bedside _charm_ , and from what gossip he’d heard from staff members, very few people were capable of resisting.

He tried not to admit that he had some concern about that _manner_ and the effect it might have on gorgeous blonde women, and one gorgeous blonde in particular. It _certainly_ wasn’t the reason he was knocking on Jack’s office door at 6 AM, on what was technically his day off. Nope, not at all...

A breezy, “Come on in!” sounded from the other side of the door and John opened it, stepping into the sleek, minimalistic space.

Jack’s face lit up in his patented, movie-star grin when he saw John in the doorway. “Dr. John Smith, as I live and breathe!” He immediately came out from behind his desk to offer John a friendly handshake and clap on the shoulder. “It’s been far too long; how’ve you been?”

“Just fine, thanks,” John replied, taking the seat across the desk from Jack’s. “You?”

“Oh, you know… living the dream!” He winked at John as he sat down in a marvelous ergonomic office chair that John immediately made a mental note to purchase for his own office. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Doc?”

“ _Well_ ,” John drawled as he leaned back and attempted a casual demeanor. “I saw you’re doing Rose Tyler’s surgery today.”

“Ah, yes, the blonde bombshell herself!” He winked at John. “You admitted her from A&E, right?”

“I did. I’ve been... keeping up with her care as well. Making sure she’s comfortable, you understand...”

“Oh, I understand!” Jack’s grin was positively predatory. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make her... _comfortable_.”

“Jack...”

“She’s a babe,” Jack kept going. “I was thinking about looking her up when she gets out of here. She’d make a perfect first wife for me, don’t you think?”

The uncharacteristically _feral_ noise that erupted from John’s chest was one he had no idea he was capable of making. 

Instead of looking remotely intimidated, Jack’s grin just widened. _“‘Keeping up with her care’_... is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

John drew in a deep breath and tried valiantly to tamp down his rather caveman-like response. “Look, could you just... What's her anesthesia plan? Projected discharge? Pain management?”

“This is toeing the line, Doc.” The cheeky glint in Jack’s eye faded and his demeanor became solemn. “She’s not under your care anymore. This probably is a confidentiality violation.”

John let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Yeah... suppose you’re right. Can’t you give me _anything_?”

“Her anesthesia plans and post-operative pain management plan are well within normal parameters. She’s young and healthy and her prognosis is excellent,” he recited. “She’s going to be fine, Doc. And from what it sounds like, she’s going to have her own personal physician making house calls even once she’s home.”

John scoffed and absently tugged at his earlobe. “Dunno what you’re talking about, Dr. Harkness. But thanks. She’s probably waking up soon; I want to keep her company.”

“Tell her I’ll be in for her pre-op consult soon!” Jack replied, his grin returning as he stood and walked John to the office door. “And seriously, Doc... she seems like a terrific girl. Don’t mess this up.”

******

It took John barely any time at all to make it to the orthopedic floor, waving absently to the nurses who were in the middle of transitioning the shift from night to day as he made his way to Rose’s room. As he had expected, he found her hospital bed empty, the hours before surgery requiring various tests and procedures, but what he hadn’t expected was the slightly older blonde woman occupying the recliner that he had come to think of as “his.”

As if she could sense his presence, the woman’s head snapped up barely a second after he had frozen in the doorway. Her brows narrowed at him as she took in his dressed-down, “day-off” attire of brown pinstriped trousers, Oxford, and tie. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my daughter’s hospital room?”

“Erm...” He was trying to fumble together an explanation when the door to the ensuite slid open, the familiar scent of disinfecting cleanser wafting out as Rose came into view. She was sitting in her wheelchair at the bathroom sink, her bandaged leg was stretched out in front of her, and she looked more beautiful in her horrid blue hospital gown than anyone had any right to. Her eyes met his and their faces split into matching grins.

“John!” she exclaimed, sounding delighted to see him. “What are you doing here so early?”

“John?” the other woman demanded, standing from the chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she joined Rose in the ensuite and helped steer her out of the room and towards the bed. “Who is John, then?”

“ _Mum,_ ” Rose hissed. “John is the ER doctor, I told you about him.”

“You told me about Dr. Smith,” she replied as she helped Rose stand and pivot back into bed. “Since when is he ‘John’?”

“Just leave it,” Rose muttered, her cheeks flushing an attractive pink as she turned back to John. “Sorry. This is my mother, Jackie Tyler. Mum, this is Dr. John Smith.”

It took John a beat or two to remember how to speak. He wasn’t exactly expecting to meet Rose’s _mother_ , today of all days, before he’d even officially asked Rose out on a date. He only realized that both women were staring at him expectantly a few moments after Rose had completed her introduction. “Oh! Right! Dr. Smith. Mrs. Tyler. Pleasure.”

He crossed the room and reached over Rose’s bed to shake her mother’s hand. The woman’s suspicious gaze did not waver as she grasped onto it for a shake. “It’s _Ms._ Tyler. And likewise,” she said in an even, measured tone.

How so few words could sound so _threatening,_ John would never know.

He shook off his discomfort when he noticed Rose’s eyes nervously darting between the two of them. He offered her a warm smile as he helped adjust the pillows behind her head while Jackie covered her with the sheet and blanket. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” Rose admitted with a small chuckle as Jackie tutted. “Sorry in advance.”

“What on Earth do you have to be sorry about?” he asked.

“I get a little... _unpleasant_ when I don’t eat,” Rose told him with a sheepish grin.

Jackie barked out a laugh. “Unpleasant? A right terror, you are. Always have been. We used to know exactly when to feed you because you would throw yourself on the floor _screaming_ over the most ridiculous things!”

“ _Mum!_ ” Rose chastised, looking horrified.

John laughed. “Oh, that’s brilliant! What sort of things, Ms. Tyler?”

Jackie stared at him for a moment, her eyes zeroing in on the hand that had unconsciously covered Rose’s before rising back to meet his eyes and giving him an ever-so-slightly warmer smile than he was expecting. “Oh, the usual. Wouldn’t let her lick the cat, gave her the wrong color hair ribbon, I said the word ‘pineapple’...”

John let out another laugh as Rose covered her face with her hand. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed, love, I’m sure you were just darling!”

The endearment slipped from his lips so naturally and easily that it took several seconds for it to even register to his own ears. Rose and her mother, however, were wearing matching shrewd expressions that were directed intently at him.

He swallowed hard and decided it would be best to simply carry the conversation along. “I’d love to hear more stories from when Rose was young, Ms. Tyler,” he deflected politely, giving Rose’s hand a squeeze that he wasn’t entirely certain was meant to reassure him or her.

Rose’s mother fixed him in another appraising stare before a small smile graced her features. “You can call me Jackie, Dr. Smith. Go on, let’s have a seat and we can all three chat before they come up to collect Rose. Did you have tea? Breakfast? I think I have a spare tea bag and some Jammie Dodgers in my bag here...”

Rose giggled a bit. “Oh, no. Mum’s trying to feed you. You’re stuck with us now!”

John chuckled as he sat down in his usual recliner. “Stuck with you? That’s not so bad. Nowhere else I’d rather be, in fact.”

******

He endured the usual pre-operative visit from Dr. Harkness with uncharacteristic silence, letting Jackie and Rose do most of the talking and trying not to interfere with Jack’s line of questions that bordered on “overly concerned.” After Jack left, the three of them chatted pleasantly and it felt like no time at all had passed before Clara was wheeling in a stretcher.

“They’re ready to take you down now, Rose. All set?” 

Rose glanced over at John, her lovely brown eyes showing a hint of apprehension. He reached out his free hand to cup her cheek in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“You’re going to be just fine,” he reassured her, pressing a brief kiss to her forehead.

Rose nodded, leaning her head against the pillows as Clara, the transporter, and two other nurses from the unit puttered around the bed, readying Rose for a smooth transition to the stretcher. Once things were set, he helped guide her injured leg as they tugged her over, and Jackie let out a tiny squeak of concern as she slid onto the stretcher.

“All right, Rose?” she asked, rushing over to Rose’s side as the nurses and transporters tucked in her sheets and pulled up the rails.

“‘M fine, Mum,” she said, reaching for Jackie’s hand. “It was just like a roller coaster!”

Jackie let out a watery chuckle and awkwardly leaned over the stretcher to give Rose a clumsy hug. “Good luck, love. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”

Rose nodded and turned those huge, expressive eyes on John. “And you? Will you be here when I get back?”

John grinned. “Oh, Rose. Nothing could keep me away.” He gave her hand one last squeeze before stepping back and watching them wheel her out of the room.

Clara turned to Jackie just before she exited behind the stretcher. “You’re welcome to grab a bite in the cafeteria and then wait in the family lounge, Mrs. Tyler. Dr. Harkness will come and find you once Rose is settled in the post-op.”

“All right,” Jackie said, moving back to her chair to gather her coat and bag. “And what about you, Dr. Smith? Would you like to have a spot of lunch?”

“Oh, no thank you, Jackie,” he replied. “I’ve some work I was going to take care of up here while I wait for Rose.”

Jackie nodded, patting his cheek gently on her way out the door. “She’s a good girl, Doctor. And I think you’re a good man. Mind you,” she fixed him with her stern gaze again, “if you hurt her there’s nowhere you can hide.”

John gulped, trying not to let the slight terror shine through his eyes. “Understood,” he managed to squeak out. 

Jackie seemed satisfied with his response. She nodded and left him alone in the room, wondering if there ever would be a point in his future when a Tyler woman wouldn’t scare the bloody pants off him.

******

John spent the next several hours in Rose’s room, sitting in “his” recliner. He was buried in case dictations, discontinuing orders, and other mundane, but thankfully distracting, tasks. Clara came by from time to time, bringing tea and snacks that he graciously accepted. They made small talk about her boyfriend, a schoolteacher named Danny, and he appreciated her attempts to keep him engaged so he wouldn’t worry too much about Rose.

Still, the hours crept by, and it felt like he had been sitting in that vaguely uncomfortable reclining chair for _eons_ before Dr. Harkness himself breezed into the room, white coat billowing out like a cape, arms raised in the air triumphantly. “Who’s the man? _Jack Harkness_ is the man!”

John rolled his eyes but could feel his face breaking out into a grin. “I take it Rose’s surgery went well?”

He clutched a fist to his chest and sighed dramatically. “I did some of my finest work today, John. Just beautiful. Six weeks from now, she won’t even know it was broken.”

A tension he hadn’t even noticed he’d been carrying released from his shoulders as relief spread through his body. “Oh, that’s _brilliant_ , Jack!” He sprang up out of the chair and couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his friend and colleague in a celebratory hug.

“Damn, if this is the reaction I’m gonna get, send all the girls you like down to me!”

“Sorry, Jack, might not be any more after this one!” he said, unable to keep the giddy joy out of his voice. He pulled back and grasped the man by his broad shoulders. “How is she now?”

“She’s awake… but still a little out of it,” he told John. “Seems she was a bit sensitive to the anesthesia so she may be loopy for a while yet, but her vitals are strong and her pain is well-managed. She should be out of the PACU and back with you shortly.”

“Thank you, Dr. Harkness,” John said, patting his friend on the shoulders before taking a step back and sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Anything for you... and for her,” he replied with a winning grin. “Will I see you at her follow up appointments?”

“Oh, I dunno,” he told him breezily. “Suppose the chances are good. If she’ll have me, that is.”

“Well, if the way she was talking about you after she woke up is any indication... she’ll _have_ you, all right”

John’s ears perked at his words. “Really? What did she say?”

Jack’s smile widened. “Sorry, Doc. Patient confidentiality.” He reached out a hand, and John clasped it in a friendly handshake as he rolled his eyes. “See you soon.”

******

Jackie made it back to the room just a few minutes before Rose, relief evident on her face. “Dr. Harkness was coming up to speak to you, did you see him?”

“Oh, yes, he told me what he could.”

“Such a nice man,” Jackie continued, sitting on the small sofa included in the room. “And _gorgeous_ , isn’t he? Like a movie star.”

“Hadn’t noticed,” John replied, hand rubbing uncomfortably at the back of his neck.

“Huh,” Jackie said. “Funny, neither did Rose. Oh, and speaking of herself...”

John turned towards the door and beamed as they wheeled Rose into the room. Immediately, he made his way over to her side and reached for her hand, relief rushing through him when her fingers wrapped around his and she turned to give him a sleepy smile.

“John,” she breathed out, a little woozily. “I’m so glad you’re still here. Blimey, your hair looks bloody _fantastic_ today, don’t you think, Mum?”

Jackie chuckled. “Don’t worry, this is only the fourth or fifth time she’s mentioned your hair since she woke up.”

“Well, it’s bloody brilliant hair,” Rose continued. “ _Really_ great hair, John. I just wanna play with it all day. Maybe we could pretend to watch a film and I could play with your hair...”

John squeezed her hand. “You can do anything you want with my hair as soon as you get out of here. Let’s get you back into bed for now, yeah?”

“Promises, promises,” she slurred, erupting into giggles.

Clara turned to them, her smile wide. “Would you and Ms. Tyler mind stepping out for a moment while we get her settled?”

“Of course we don’t mind,” Jackie answered, steering them both out of the door while Clara and the other staff members maneuvered the adorably giggly Rose back into bed.

“I hate to leave tonight, but I need to,” Jackie confessed to him once the door shut behind them. “I feel like a rubbish mum, but I have an early day at the salon tomorrow. I don’t like that she’s all loopy and no one will be here for her.”

John didn’t hesitate in his response. “I’ll stay, Jackie, don’t worry.”

Jackie stared at him, wide-eyed. “You will? Really?”

“I’m back to work tomorrow night. If I don’t sleep tonight, I’ll be able to during the day, before my shift. And...” he hesitated a bit, debating how much of his feelings he wanted to admit to Rose’s mother before continuing, “...I want her safe just as much as you do.”

Jackie blinked and, without hesitation, threw her arms around him. He stood stock still for a moment, the display of affection taking him by surprise, before patting her on the back in a motion he hoped didn’t feel as awkward to her as it did to him.

“Thank you,” she whispered, patting his cheek fondly as she pulled away. “I’ll just say goodbye once we’re allowed back in there., Is that all right?”

“Yeah, fine,” he replied, just as Clara peeked her head out of the door. 

“We’re all set,” she said, pushing open the door and letting them back into the room. “We’re just getting a quick set of vitals and then she’ll be all yours.”

“Well, not quite yet,” Rose giggled from the bed. “But it’s looking promising!”

Jackie shook her head. “Rose, I have to open the salon tomorrow. John’s going to stay the night with you. Is that all right?”

Rose turned to look at John, beaming. “You are?”

“Oh, yes,” he told her. “Someone has to keep you from wandering off, eh?”

Rose didn’t reply. At least, not with words. Instead, she reached out and twisted his tie around her fist. He glanced at her and was about to ask what she was doing when she pulled him down and attached her lips to his.

The entire room fell away, Clara and her aide and Jackie were all shoved back into the recesses of his mind as kissing Rose rushed to the forefront of all of his senses. Her lips were pillow-soft and pliant against his, the hand that wasn’t entwined with his tie had sunk into his hair, and her tongue traced teasingly against his lips until his involuntary gasp allowed her entry. Their tongues tangled briefly and his palm had just come up to cup her cheek when a loud “AHEM!” caused him to pull away abruptly, his dazed mind slowly registering, once again, that they were not alone in the room.

Clara and her aide were grinning widely at them, and he groaned inwardly, positive the entire nursing staff would hear about this kiss before the end of the night. Jackie, however, was shaking her head with a small, amused smile playing on her face. She came over to the other side of Rose and placed a gentle kiss on her flushed cheek.

“Let me say goodbye before you plant another one on him, will ya, Rose?” 

Rose smiled giddily. “Bye, mum! Love ya!”

“Love you, sweetheart,” she replied, giving John a knowing smirk before exiting the room, Clara and her aide following just after.

“Ready for me to plant another one?” Rose slurred, her eyes half lidded as she tugged on the tie that she still somehow had a grip on.

John gulped. He was sorely tempted, but knew he shouldn’t take advantage while she was under the influence of whatever anesthesia they’d used in the OR. He looked down at his tie as he gently began to untangle her hand from the blue silk. “Rose... as _badly_ as I want to say yes... I really don’t want you to do something you’ll regret, and I’ve seen enough people coming out of anesthesia to know they don’t always _entirely_ know what they’re doing… _well_ , enough to know they wouldn’t be saying it if they were fully aware of their surroundings…”

Before he could continue, a small snore interrupted him mid-ramble. He glanced up and felt a grin spread slowly across his face.

Rose was sound asleep.

He finished working her hand loose from his tie and set it gently on the bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before making his way to the nurse’s station. He begged the use of a pillow and blanket from Clara, who gave him a teasing smile before promising to bring it along to Rose’s room promptly. When he returned to his sleeping beauty, he went directly to her side and watched her as she slept, his mind completely boggled at the fact that _yes_ (if her reaction to him, loose-lipped and unguarded from the anesthesia was anything to go by) she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

He was marveling at how lovely she was as she slept, when she suddenly let out a low, sleepy mutter.

“It was the _aliens_.”

He sighed. It was going to be a _long_ night...

Sure enough, Rose’s surprisingly alert voice roused John from a restless sleep around 3 AM.

“Aliens built the pyramids, John. And later it’s like, they didn’t even know it, but everything was green and purple, but since it was green and purple they thought it was the _Romans_...”

He sighed. “Go to sleep, Rose.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is finally discharged from the hospital!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all need to understand how incredible TenRoseForeverandEver is. Not only is she a brilliant beta and a wonderful friend, but she is so incredibly patient with me and only pushes JUST the right amount. I'm back to work post-pandemic and it's utterly EXHAUSTING, and she's been brilliantly supportive and encouraging! She needs a million kudos and thanks for being AWESOME!
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful comments and kudos! They keep me going and one day I will go back and reply to them all! Sadly, today is NOT that day, I'm sorry! I'll work on it!
> 
> Enjoy!

Rose was a model post-surgical patient. John watched with pride as she did her exercises dutifully, worked with physical therapy with nary a complaint, and was perfectly pleasant to everyone who crossed her path. Her recovery was going better than anyone expected, and only two days after her surgery Dr. Harkness told her that, barring any complications, she could be discharged the next day.

She shared the news with John when he came to check on her after his night shift, but even as she grinned happily at the prospect of going home after nearly a week in the hospital, something in her eyes lacked that spark he’d become so drawn to.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, covering her hand with his.

Rose sighed as she shifted her palm so they could lace their fingers together. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“Rose Tyler, it has been my single-minded focus since you showed up in A&E to make you smile as often as possible. It’s seared into my brain, and _you_...” he tweaked her nose affectionately, “are holding something back.”

Rose’s cheeks flushed as she bit her lip, glancing down at their joined hands to hide her reaction to his flattery. “‘S just… I feel really safe here, you know? I mean, no one can get into this room unless I say so. Plus there’s Martha, and you… but the minute I get home… _he’s_ gonna know.”

Ah. Jimmy the Wanker.

He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “It’s not too late to file charges, you know. Or to get an order of protection against him.”

Rose shook her head. “I’m not really worried about him hurting me again. I just don’t want him to make things harder for my mum. She’s gonna worry about me being home alone while she’s at work but I know she can’t afford to keep missing days.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Rose,” John told her. “You’ve got me, Martha, and Mickey around too. You really shouldn’t be left alone until your mobility has significantly improved.”

A knock at Rose’s door interrupted whatever retort she was certainly about to give him, and the dietary worker gave them a warm smile as she dropped off Rose's breakfast tray. Rose thanked her sincerely, but wrinkled her nose as soon as the door closed.

“Mmmm, processed egg-like product and mechanized pork strips,” John joked as Rose lifted the warming lid off her plate. “Can’t beat it!”

Rose stuck her tongue out at him and reached for her toast. “Gotta admit, the food is one really big incentive to get back home. At least they can’t muck up the toast too badly. Mind you, this tea…”

“Say no more.” John stood up, struck by a sudden inspiration. “There’s a little shop right across the way with brilliant tea and even more brilliant banana danishes. I’ll just pop over and bring you back something edible before you know it.”

Rose shook her head. “You don’t have to do that at all. I’ll manage. You must be exhausted after your shift.”

“Nah, do this all the time, in fact,” he lied, reaching over and pressing a light kiss to her forehead, as had become their standard farewell over the last few days. “I’ll be back soon. Enjoy your hydrogenated butter-like product.”

Rose giggled and waved him off. He whistled out some nonsensical tune as he took the elevator down to the ground floor, running through the cafe’s menu in his head while trying to decide which of their exceptional blends Rose would like best. He made the same trek several times a week, so he was walking on autopilot as he passed through the lobby, until an angry voice broke through the din of the crowd.

“No, you’re not getting it. Rose Tyler, she’s my girlfriend.”

John froze. He turned towards the central reception desk and saw a nondescript young man standing there, his hands balled into fists at his side and his brow furrowed in frustration.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any patient information without identification.”

John sighed in relief at Donna Noble’s familiar, no-nonsense voice responding to man. She would not be intimidated by _anyone_ , nor would she ever bend the rules. She was his absolute favorite receptionist for a reason.

“I already told you I don’t got no ID on me.” His voice was getting louder with each word. “You’re really gonna tell a bloke he can’t go see his girlfriend?”

“Hospital policy,” Donna replied smoothly. “Now I suggest you either go home or come back with some identification. If not, I’ll have to call security to escort you off the premises.”

“Then call security!” He stepped back from the desk and flailed his arms. “I’m not afraid of them! Can’t I just go see my girlfriend?”

John had been steadily drawing closer during the entire conversation. He was finally close enough that he was able to drop a hand on the man’s shoulder, squeezing just a _hair_ too tight. “Jimmy Stone, I gather?”

“What’s it to you, mate?” he spat out as he turned towards John and shrugged his hand off his shoulder. 

“Oh, quite a bit, I’m afraid,” John responded, his voice low. “Let’s take a walk.”

“I don’t want to take a walk; I want to see my girlfriend!”

John’s hands were shaking, his vision going progressively more red each time Jimmy the Wanker referred to Rose as his girlfriend. “Now, listen to me, Mr. Stone. There is absolutely no way you are getting anywhere _near_ Rose Tyler. Not today, not _ever again_. Are we clear?”

“What are you on about?”

John stepped close and dropped his voice even lower. “ _What I am on about_ is if you come within _ten feet_ of that girl… _well_ , let’s just say I’m not a man you want to make angry.”

Jimmy scoffed, sizing John up. “I ain’t afraid of you. You think you could take me? I’ll snap you in half!”

John chuckled. “I happen to be a very clever man, Mr. Stone. And I happen to know fifteen different undetectable chemicals I could inject you with, right now, that would ensure you would _never_ wake up. Now, you are going to turn around and walk out that door and forget that Rose Tyler exists. Do you understand me?”

Jimmy glared at him, undoubtedly trying to look intimidating, but John didn’t back down. He met his gaze without wavering, and when it was evident that John wasn’t going to move out of his path, Jimmy scoffed again and took a step backwards.

“This isn’t over, mate,” Jimmy called as he moved towards the exit.

John simply shook his head and watched Jimmy push his way through the crowd and apply more force than necessary to the revolving door. John let out a breath, willing his heart to slow, before turning back to the reception desk and giving Donna a grateful smile.

“Donna Noble, you are _brilliant_ ,” John praised.

“That’s your girl, isn’t it? Rose?” she replied with a smirk.

John felt his cheeks heat up as he reached a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “ _Well_ , not as _such_... nothing _official_ anyway…”

“I heard she snogged your brains out.”

John’s jaw dropped. “Blimey, news travels fast in this place, eh?”

“The receptionists get all the good gossip,” Donna teased.

“You’re more ruthless than the gutter press.”

“I think it’s nice,” Donna told him dreamily, ignoring his comment. “I mean, we were all so sad about Dr. Song, you especially, and then this girl comes along and puts _that_ look on your face? There’s gotta be something special there.”

John stared at Donna before he felt a slow smile spread across his face. “You know what, Donna? I’m bringing you coffee. And pastries. Whatever you want from across the way, my treat!”

******

John was incredibly lucky that his colleagues were willing to switch their schedules around on such short notice, and as such, he was able to drive Rose home upon discharge the next day. It meant putting sleep on hold for a few hours, but he didn’t mind. It was nothing he hadn’t done before with a little help from some very strong coffee. He helped pack up the room first thing, and as soon as Dr. Harkness signed the discharge order, Rose was using her crutches to hobble into the wheelchair. She left the unit with hugs and waves, and she promised to come visit as soon as she could navigate the transit system on her own. Martha helped load them into John’s little blue Prius, and he began the short trek while Rose phoned her mum and let her know they were on their way.

“Mum says the lift is actually working,” Rose told him as soon as she rang off. “She put up a week’s worth of fuss when she knew I’d be coming back to stay and they finally got sick of her moaning.”

“Oh, brilliant!” John beamed at her. “Now the question is, are we risking sepsis by putting you in there?”

Rose rolled her eyes, but her small smile belied her irritation. “She said she hit it with some bleach from floor to ceiling, but I promise I won’t touch anything, just in case!”

“See that you don’t,” he teased back, letting Rose direct him through London’s streets and towards her mother’s flat. Being mid-morning, the traffic wasn’t too terrible and it didn’t take long before they pulled up to the entrance closest to the lift. Rose let Jackie know they’d arrived, and John set about gathering her crutches and other belongings from the back seat. He helped her out of the passenger seat and stood vigilantly while she situated her crutches, and walked close by as she hobbled towards the doorway.

“You sure you’re alright with those?” John asked, eyeing the wobbly wooden sticks that Rose was using to keep the weight off her injured ankle.

“You heard Dr. Harkness, I’ve gotta get used to them.”

“Seems a bit archaic to me,” he muttered. “I ought to just carry you. Far more efficient, and who doesn’t love a good piggy back ride, Rose? Could hire a few strapping lads to carry you around in your own private litter…” He trailed off and grimaced at the image of four muscled, shirtless men hoisting her up on a luxurious, canopied platform and catering to Rose’s every whim. “No, no, actually no. Forget I said anything of the sort, Miss Tyler.”

Rose giggled, seeming about to respond if her cheeky, tongue touched grin was any indication, but whatever she was about to say cut off as she stopped abruptly in her tracks. She froze, tense and defensive, her eyes narrowed, and her cheeks flushed pink. He followed her gaze and felt his body flush with anger.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here, Jimmy?” Rose demanded in a low voice.

“What am _I_ doing here? What’s _he_ doing here?” Jimmy pushed off the doorway and sauntered closer, his eyes fixed on John. “Now I get it, mate. You’re shagging her, ain’t you? ‘S why you got rid of me so fast yesterday, yeah?”

“Yesterday?” Rose asked, her angry gaze snapping towards John. “What happened yesterday?”

“So your boyfriend didn’t tell you I tried to come see you?” Jimmy addressed Rose with a smirk. “Can’t handle a little competition?”

“Please.” John gave a derisive snort and turned to Rose. “I… just didn’t want to _worry_ you.”

“We’ll talk about this upstairs,” Rose said in a low and frankly frightening tone that made John gulp. “Get out of here, Jimmy.”

“It’s a public place, and I’m just hanging out! Not doing anything wrong! Besides, I gotta check on my girl!”

“I’m _not_ your girl. I haven’t been your girl for a _long_ time, and there’s nothing you can do to make me change my mind. Now leave before I ram one of these crutches so far up your arse that your tongue gets splinters, alright?”

“Big talk for a bird who can’t even keep her balance on a flight of stairs…”

John’s fists clenched, his fingernails digging unpleasantly into his palms when Jimmy mentioned the ”accident” that put Rose in the hospital. His pulse was thudding in his ears, and the only thing keeping him in one place was Rose’s steadying touch on his arm. 

He was contemplating the best way to get rid of the arsehole, when the door to the estate swung open, smacking Jimmy right in the face. He bent at the waist and wailed, hands coming up to clutch at his nose. 

“What the _fuck_?”

“James Stone! You watch that mouth of yours! Besides, you only got what you deserve. I told you already, if I see you hanging around here anymore, trying to get to Rose, I’ll do worse than call the cops on you. Next call will be to your mum! You think she wants to hear her son can’t leave a girl alone when she says no?”

Jimmy didn’t say anything, just stared at Jackie Tyler incredulously, his hand still cupping his nose.

“Now you best be on your way before I have to bring out the cricket bat! Go on! Go!”

“I’d go to A&E if I were you. That nose could be broken,” John told him conversationally, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Best not to go to Royal Hope, though. They’re not exactly your biggest fans.”

Jimmy glared at them. “You’re not getting away that easy, Rosie. Your bloke’s a big time doctor; he can’t be with you all the time. I’ll catch you alone eventually!”

John started towards him, but the slight pressure from Rose’s hand on his arm once again stopped him. Jackie’s hard stare followed Jimmy down the alley between buildings, and once he was out of earshot, she came over and wrapped an arm gently around Rose’s shoulders. “You all right, sweetheart?”

“’M fine,” Rose said. “He’s been hanging around then? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Jackie’s eyes went wide, but she snapped her mouth shut and didn’t reply. 

Rose sighed, as she swung her sharp gaze to John. “Seems to be going around. Let’s get inside. And then you _both_ have some explaining to do.”

******

Jackie and John helped Rose get settled into bed, her foot propped up on a few pillows and even more arranged strategically around her so she would be comfortable sitting up. Once she declared she was fine, she crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, looking more intimidating than anyone sitting among garishly pink pillows had any right to.

John gulped. 

“How could you two not tell me that Jimmy was hanging around here? And at the _hospital_ too! Don’t you think I need to know if something like this is going on?”

“I just didn’t want to _worry_ you, sweetheart,” Jackie replied, smoothing out her comforter.

“You had to concentrate on healing, Rose,” John added. “The extra stress could have done any number of things to your system, making it harder for you to get better.”

Rose huffed. “First off, I’m not a kid, Mum. Yeah, he wasn’t the best decision I ever made but I deserve to know if he’s bugging you, trying to find me. And _you_ , John Smith!” He winced at the anger in her tone, even as she took a few long, deep breaths to calm herself down before addressing her mother. “Mum, I could murder a cup of tea. Do you mind?”

“Sure, love,” Jackie replied, taking the hint immediately and pushing off the edge of the bed. “John, one for you?”

“Sounds brilliant, Jackie. Thanks.”

Jackie left the room, tactfully shutting the door behind her, and John took her place on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes. The lack of consistent sleep was catching up to him without a steady infusion of caffeine. Still, this was obviously important to Rose, so he forced himself to stay alert and he met her gaze, ready to take his chastisement. 

Rose didn’t disappoint. 

“I don’t even know what the hell we are, John, but I just got out of a relationship with a giant wanker who thought he could control my life. I won’t do it again,” she told him vehemently. “If you have any hope of us being _more_ someday, you need to know right now that you _won’t_ be making decisions for me, you understand?”

“Rose-“

“Nope,” she cut him off. “It was a yes or no question. Answer it.”

“Yes, I understand,” he replied with a deep sigh. “I am sorry, Rose. You deserved to know, of course you did. I just wanted to protect you.”

“You can’t wrap me in cotton wool, John. I won’t let you.”

“No, I imagine you won’t.” He smiled at her softly. “You have to understand, this is all quite… _new_ to me.” He reached over and took her hand, his tense muscles relaxing when she threaded her fingers through his and squeezed gently. “I’ve barely known you a week and already I feel more strongly about you than women I dated for _years_. It’s overwhelming in quite a wonderful way.”

“John,” Rose whispered, her finger coming up under his chin to tilt his head up. Their eyes met and he relaxed further at the soft understanding in her eyes. “I’ve not exactly made it a secret how I feel about you. This is new for me as well. But you know I’m not long past my relationship with Jimmy, and you and me started out a bit more… _intense_ than most. A bit of drama, with the funeral and the surgery and now Jimmy…”

His heart leapt into his throat at the possible implications of her words. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe… we should take a step back?”

Some of the dread he felt must have shown on his face. He could feel the blood draining out of his cheeks as he swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “I don’t mean splitting up, John. God no. I just meant… slowing down. Getting to know one another outside of the hospital and away from the drama.”

His heart calmed at her words and he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He didn’t particularly _like_ the idea of slowing down, but Rose certainly did have a point. Besides, he knew he’d be just as happy being in her presence, enjoying her company, and helping her heal as he would engaging in more… _couple-y_ activities.

“ _Well_ ,” he drawled with a teasing smile. “If you’re going to be _sensible_ and _mature_ about it… I suppose just the memory of that post-surgical snog will have to be enough to get me through.”

Rose’s eyes went wide as a pink blush crept into her cheeks. “Hold on, that really happened?”

“Oh, yes,” he breathed. “Quite brilliantly, if I recall.”

She groaned and pressed her face into her hands. “I thought that was a _dream_!”

“Nope... very, very real.” He reached over and pulled her hands away from her face, squeezing them reassuringly. “And I didn’t exactly protest… you know, until you tried the second time.”

“That’s it, it’s all over,” she moaned dramatically. “I’ll just go die of embarrassment over here now.”

John grinned and was about to heap on some more praise about her kissing skills when he let out a huge, jaw-cracking yawn that was absolutely impossible to hide. “Blimey,” he muttered, shaking his head as if it could dislodge some of the exhaustion that was settling over him, “that came on like a freight train.”

Rose’s gaze softened. “I keep forgetting you’ve been up all night. I’m sorry. You need to get some sleep.” She eyed him critically. “I’m not sure I like the idea of you driving like this, though. Here…” Rose slid her hips a bit closer to the edge of her double bed, patting the space next to her invitingly. “You can catch a kip here.”

He started at her, open-mouthed, his gaze shifting from Rose to the spot on her bed while his tired brain caught up with her words. “What… _here_ here?”

“Well, it’s either here or mum’s bed,” she teased, her tongue peeking out between her teeth enticingly. “I thought this would be preferable.”

John shook his head, losing the urge to argue when she looked at him like _that_. “This is what you call ‘slowing down’ then?”

“Oi! I’m staying above the covers.”

“Ah, well, in that case…” He stood for a moment, removing his jacket and slipping out of his trainers before lifting the edge of the bright pink comforter and curling up as close to Rose’s warm body as he dared. Just the feel of her scant inches away was enough to relax him fully, and his eyes slipped shut of their own accord.

“Sure you don’t mind?” he murmured. “I’m not going to be the best company like this.”

“I’ve got my book and the telly, I’ll be fine.” She tugged him closer, closing the distance between them and encouraged his arm to wrap around her stomach before dropping a kiss to his hair. “Sleep, Dr. Smith. You’ll need to be well-rested for rom-com movie night with Jackie Tyler.”

“Can’t wait,” he murmured, drifting off to sleep more comfortable and content than he could ever recall being.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose gets her cast off and sweetness ensues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos! I’m happy to say we only have one chapter and an epilogue left on this one! This is a bit shorter than usual, but I’m very nearly done with chapter 7 and about halfway through the epilogue!
> 
> TenRoseForeverandEver is a rockstar beta. Everyone should be so lucky to have a beta like her!
> 
> Also, before I forget... I’m sorry. I’m so... _so_ sorry!

As cliche as it was to admit, six weeks had passed in what felt like no time at all.

John had always prided himself on his innate concept of time. He always had a sense of how much time had passed or how long it would take to accomplish certain tasks. But when he was with Rose, whether they were talking, going through her home therapy exercises, watching a film on the telly, or sitting through EastEnders with her mother, he found his time sense completely distorted. He would look up at the clock, shocked to see hours had gone by instead of the minutes he’d have actually guessed.

He was smiling so much that even random hospital associates and acquaintances were quick to comment on his permanent change in mood. Dr. Harkness became a frequent visitor to A&E and, to his credit, only blatantly dug for relationship gossip once he had asked after Rose and her progress. Martha, as Rose’s best friend, was far more privy to the details. After all, they often found themselves in Rose’s flat, along with Martha’s boyfriend and Rose’s childhood friend, Mickey, playing games or chatting late into the night. Despite having almost as much knowledge of their relationship as he and Rose did, Martha had the decency to be subtle when necessary while Jack was subtle like a freight train.

Rose grew stronger and stronger as the weeks wore on, and though she couldn’t put weight on her foot, she was eventually able to maneuver her crutches like an expert. They started slowly with walks around the estate, Rose showing him the tiny football pitch and the little playground that she’d played on as a child. Eventually, she was able to go on longer walks with him to pick up their customary takeaway, though she usually had to compensate for the resulting pain with one of her large anti-inflammatory pills. 

Before John knew it, it was time for Rose’s check up with Dr. Harkness. John drove her to his office, put up with Jack’s incessant flirting, and sat through his less-than-subtle digs for gossip. Finally, after looking over Rose’s newest x-ray films and going through several exercises to check her range of motion, Jack proclaimed her healing right on schedule and fitted her with a walking boot.

They left Jack’s office, the lack of cumbersome crutches allowing them to walk hand-in-hand for the first time since they’d met. John had always loved the feeling of their skin pressed together, the dips and curves of their palms complimenting the other, while their fingers always slotted perfectly through one another’s. The simple touch made his whole body sing, and he wanted nothing more than to run headlong into an adventure with her hand clasped so perfectly in his.

“So… bonfire tonight?”

He snapped his attention back to Rose’s grinning face. “What?”

“So we can burn these bloody crutches,” she said, holding up the offending objects. “I never want to see them again as long as I live.”

He laughed and tugged her closer into his side. “We can do whatever you want with them. Burn them, throw them in the wood chipper, shoot them into space… just say the word, Rose Tyler!”

“It can be our first official date,” she said teasingly, as the tip of her pink tongue peeked out from between her teeth. “You, me, a blazing trashcan fire… what do you say?”

John stopped in his tracks even as Rose continued walking, the momentum pulling her backwards and into his arms. He reached his free hand up to trace the curve of her cheek, admiring how it flushed a light pink at his gentle touch. Their eyes met, and he felt his happy grin soften as his heart swelled with love for her.

His fingers froze just before they grazed her lips. _Love_?

Memories raced through his mind as he studied her lovely features. He remembered the first time he met this glorious woman, her quiet strength shining through those whiskey-colored eyes as she vowed never to let her horrid ex harm her again. He remembered them falling asleep, hand-in-hand, bringing one another comfort when they both thought their worlds were crumbling around them. He remembered the rush of relief when he saw her at Dr. Song’s funeral, the relived joy when Dr. Harkness announced she’d made it perfectly through surgery, and the delirious but perfect anesthesia-induced snog that followed. He recalled every laugh they’d shared as she healed in her home, every container of greasy take-out they shared as they watched films side-by-side, and every peaceful nap he’d taken curled up against her, knowing she was totally safe as she held him in her arms. 

He _loved_ her.

He loved her so fiercely that his chest ached with it. The words bubbled up in his throat, but he swallowed them back. They’d barely known each other for two months. It had been the best two months of his life, despite how horribly they had begun, but it was still too soon to openly admit to it. They hadn’t even shared a proper kiss yet; he didn’t want to scare her off by confessing too much, too soon. 

He would let her take the lead.

When he next spoke, his voice had dropped into a low murmur. “Anywhere, any _when_ with you, Rose. Just say the word and I’ll be there.”

Rose’s grin turned, for lack of a better word… _devilish_. She let go of his hand just to wrap both arms around his neck as she encouraged his head to bend closer to her. Their noses brushed, lips only a hairsbreadth apart. “The word,” she whispered before closing the tiny gap and pressing her lips to his.

Warmth surged through his entire being and he sagged into the kiss, his hand moving from her cheek to grip Rose around her waist and press her as close as humanly possible. The world around them faded away as her mouth worked gently against his, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips and making him gasp at the sweet tendrils of sensation that coursed through him. She took full advantage and swept her tongue against his, making him groan and clutch her impossibly closer. Rose’s answering whimper made his knees wobble as she pressed up on her tiptoes to kiss him more firmly.

Her sudden intake of breath and tiny gasp of pain was what pulled him out of the warm, sweet haze that kissing her had brought over him. He gently guided her back onto flat feet with one eyebrow raised. Her answering grin was only a touch sheepish.

“Gonna have to wait a bit longer to show off your ballerina skills I’m afraid,” he teased, threading his fingers into her hair and pulling her forehead to his.

“Worth it,” she replied in a breathless whisper.

“So are we done going slow?”

“ _God_ yeah.”

“ _Brilliant!_ ” John caught her mouth again and she giggled, kissing him back with equal fervor.

Some indeterminate amount of time later, they mutually pulled apart to breathe, and John decided that freshly-snogged Rose was absolutely his favorite Rose. “I’m suddenly even more unhappy than usual that I have to work my shift tonight.”

Rose pouted, her plump lip extra pink and glistening and he groaned inwardly. “Surely doctors can take sick days too?” she asked, her tone innocent, dancing her fingers up his t-shirt.

“Minx,” he growled. “I’d rather save those sick days for when I simply cannot let you out of bed.”

Rose startled a bit, but the gleam of want and her saucy smirk were unmistakeable. “Fair enough. How about a date then?”

“Dinner and a film? Out even?”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Perfect.” He ducked down to kiss her once more. “Are you going to be all right getting home?”

“I’m great at taking the bus. Could you keep these in the boot of your car?” Rose handed him the cursed wooden crutches. “It’s easier without them.”

“Consider it done. We’ll even turn them into kindling after dinner.”

Rose laughed again and pulled him down for one more kiss. “Go be brilliant, Dr. Smith. Ring me in the morning?”

“Absolutely,” he murmured, giving her a last little squeeze before watching her walk to the bus stop. She turned and waved to him with a wide grin and, his expression matching hers, he turned back to the hospital to begin his shift.

******

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

John spun around to see Martha standing in the hall, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“What on Earth makes you say that, Dr. Jones?” he replied. “I’m in a completely normal mood, certainly no more happy or giddy or silly... or even morose than usual. Absolutely 100% maintaining mood-homeostasis over here.”

“You were _whistling_. And you have a literal spring in your step.”

“I was doing no such thing.”

“Uh-huh.” Martha didn’t sound convinced in the slightest. “I had hoped snogging Rose would loosen you up a little.”

He practically spit out the sip of tea he’d just taken. “How did you know about that?”

“Rose told me she was going to snog you good today,” Martha replied matter-of-factly. “She thought she could convince you to take a sick day. Looks like I won that wager.” 

John snapped his gaping mouth shut and narrowed his eyes at Martha. “And just how much was this wager?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she sassed with a small smile. “Now, how do you want to handle tonight’s work load?”

The next few hours passed uneventfully, he and Martha delegating various tasks to the other residents and interns, writing prescription orders and calling various consultations. 

Around 9 PM, a sudden flurry of activity pulled him out of his charting. The nurses were bustling around, gathering supplies and helping one another with sterile gowns and gloves.

“Ambulance just radioed, Dr. Smith,” Nurse Redfern bustled over with a gown and gloves for him. “Twenty-one year old female stabbing victim en route, they can’t get the bleeding under control and her BP is dropping. We’re meeting them out front.”

John sprung up from his seat at the nurse’s station as she helped him into the sterile garments. “Right,” he said. “Order two pints of O negative and cyklokapron injections. Get the crash cart in room 3.”

“Right away,” she replied, darting away as John, Martha, and several other members of the staff jogged to the large automatic doors to wait for the ambulance.

“All right, everyone, first priority is to get the bleeding under control!” he announced. “The medics established IV access but we’ll need a second point just in case. Dr. Jones, can you take care of that?”

“Consider it done,” Martha replied.

The sound of the ambulance siren was growing louder as it raced towards the hospital. “Right, get ready, everyone!”

As soon as the bay doors opened, two medics hopped down and helped guide the stretcher to the ground as quickly and gently as possible. His heart sank a bit at their stressed expressions and the sheer amount of blood staining their clothing, but he rallied quickly and refocused as the patient came into view.

The blood drained from his face as soon as he saw her and he suddenly wasn’t sure if his legs could support his weight. A heavy boulder of dread settled in his gut.

Even pale, drawn, and unconscious, he would know that face anywhere.

“Doctor…” Martha said in a panicked whisper from next to him. “It’s…”

He barely recognized his own voice as he responded.

_”Rose…”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get dicey in A&E...
> 
> CW: blood, medical emergency, discussion of violent events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is COMPLETE! I could never have gotten here without all of your wonderfully positive reviews and lovely kudos!
> 
> This story would not have been possible without the greatest beta in the world, TenRoseForeverandEver! She is the real reason it’s actually presentable to society and for that I will be eternally grateful!
> 
> There is an epilogue that I’ll be posting tomorrow!
> 
> Also, before anyone comes at me for this being “medically inaccurate,” please keep in mind, I’m not a doctor or even a nurse. I have some hospital experience as a patient care tech (CNA with some extra skills), but a lot of my medical info is skewed from google and taken from the US health system to make my narrative work. This is not meant to be medical advice, nor am I implying that this is typical procedure in an emergency situation. I’m just trying to make a story work.

John’s hands flew into his hair as he stared in horrified disbelief at the woman he loved, lying bloodied and battered and completely motionless on the stretcher. An oxygen mask was strapped over her nose and mouth while large patches of cotton gauze, saturated with blood, were pressed strategically over her chest and abdomen. Time stretched out endlessly as John’s heartbeat picked up in panic and everything he’d learned in medical school flew out of his head, leaving his mind utterly blank. 

“Sorry, I can’t…” he stammered. “I have to find someone else…”

“Doctor!” one of the medics snapped, pulling him back into the present. “There’s no _time!_ Female, early twenties, multiple stab wounds, hemorrhaging, and in critical condition. Now, where are we going?”

He closed his eyes and began counting to ten, using the familiar calming technique to help steel his nerves. The medic was right, there wasn’t any time to find another team to care for Rose. He had to stay focused. One wrong step and her condition could go beyond critical in an instant. 

He could do this. For _her_.

“Room three!” he called out as the small crowd of staff members began hurrying alongside the stretcher. “Martha, keep an eye on her pulse. Where are her wounds?”

“Seven total. One in her side, one in her chest, the rest in her abdomen,” the medic who was keeping pressure replied. “Defensive wounds on her hands. Managed to knock the wanker out with a brick before she lost consciousness. He’s in custody. Ex-boyfriend.”

A small wave of relief mixed with fury swept through him. The bastard was _lucky_ there were several miles, iron bars, and dozens of officers between them. 

“Right.” He gritted his teeth as they swept into the room. “Joan, administer the injections and hang the blood. Bill, grab a set of vitals, and Barbara, we need a heart monitor attached. Martha, how’s her pulse?”

“Not good,” she replied, her brow tensed in concern and her mouth set in a thin line. “45 and thready. We need to get the bleeding under control.”

“Working on it.” He gathered pads of thick, clean gauze as he fought to keep his mounting terror in check. _One step at a time_ , he reminded himself. _She needs blood, we can’t take any risks with that._ “Can you get the secondary IV access?”

“Her veins are pretty flat,” Martha told him, her voice holding a barely-noticeable tremor even as her hands worked gracefully and efficiently. “We might need an ultrasound.”

“There’s no time for an ultrasound!” Bill stated as she cut down Rose’s shirt to obtain access to her wounds and so they could affix the heart monitor leads.

“I administered the cyklokapron injections,” he heard Joan respond. “They should be working by now, but she’s still losing a lot of blood.”

John’s mind raced as he scanned Rose’s still form. He tried as hard as he could to stay detached, to pretend that she was just an anonymous patient that had arrived in his emergency department, because the idea of Rose being in danger was making him half-mad with panic, and panic wouldn’t help him get his thoughts in order. 

He had to _focus_.

He _had_ to save her. There was no other option.

John forced out every worst-case scenario that was running through his mind, from the stab wounds hitting major nerves and leaving Rose with permanent damage to her bleeding out on the table, and with considerable difficulty, let the reality at hand overrun him. He scanned through everything he knew of her history, unsure why the clotting injections wouldn’t be working. The bleeding should have slowed quickly, but she was still soaking through gauze faster than the transfusion could administer. From what he knew, she was completely healthy: no clotting disorders had ever been indicated on her chart, and Dr. Harkness hadn’t mentioned any bleeding issues post-surgery…

 _Surgery_ , it finally dawned on him. _That’s it!_

“She needs another injection!” he exclaimed, digging into a drawer and producing a syringe. He immediately affixed the needle and began dosing the medication. “She’s been on a course of anti-inflammatories after surgery. It must be affecting her ability to clot!”

He quickly located a vein in her hand and injected the medication, stepping back and watching her heart monitor and the screen with her continuous vital signs. The numbers were grim, but after a few moments of tense observation he heard a collective sigh of relief amongst the rest of the personnel in the room.

“So far so good!” Bill announced. “Her bleeding is slowing down.”

He could have sagged against the wall in relief, but there was still so much more to do. This was just the first step to getting her stabilized, and he had to keep moving. 

“Right,” he announced. “We have to get those numbers up. Joan-“

“Doctor!” Martha called out to him, panicked, the blood draining from her face as she gaped in horror at the heart monitor that had just begun blaring out an alarm. “She’s arresting!”

John glanced up at the monitor, his own heartbeat thundering in his ears, so strong compared to the irregular rhythm flashing across the screen. His vision went white for a millisecond, and suddenly it wasn’t Rose’s bloodied, battered form spread out across the table, but the nearly pristine one of Dr. Song.

“No,” he whispered, backing away as hopelessness coursed through him. “No, I can’t save her. I’m sorry, I can’t…”

“ _Doctor!_ ” Martha’s face filled his vision. A sudden pain blossomed over his cheek as her palm made sharp contact with his skin. “Rose needs you! This is _not_ the same as Dr. Song! She’s _full code_ status, Doctor. Now get in there and save her!”

John pressed his hand to his face as he stared at Martha in disbelief. “You slapped me!”

“And I’ll do a lot more if you don’t _go_!” 

It took half a second for his brain to reboot. His gaze slid from Martha to the exam table, and instead of the wild-haired form of his mentor, he saw Rose once again as the team of nurses hooked her up to the automatic defibrillator… the same kind of device that had uttered the cold, metallic words that had sealed Dr. Song’s fate.

“Pulse detected,” it ground out. “Shock advised.”

“CLEAR!” he announced to the room, and everyone brought their hands off Rose’s body as the machine delivered a shock to her heart.

“Analyzing rhythm…” the machine spoke once again, it's voice tinny and impersonal. “Shock advised.”

He shouted once again for everyone to clear the table and the AED shocked Rose’s heart a second time. He stared at her, silently praying to whatever higher being was listening that it would bring her heart to a normal rhythm.

He heard the long, flat tone just a moment before the machine sounded through the room with, “No rhythm detected. No shock advised.”

Her heart had stopped.

His knees felt like they would give out at any moment, but he pushed through the feeling and was immediately at Rose’s side to start a round of CPR. She was a full code status, just as Martha had told him, meaning he was able to, and absolutely would, use any intervention necessary to save her life.

“Martha, push the epi! I’m starting compressions!”

He alternated rescue breaths with the compressions, just as he had learned in his life support courses so long ago, letting the AED analyze her heart rhythm after each round. After the third announcement of, “No shock advised,” he turned to the other people in the room.

“How’s her bleeding?” he asked as he mentally kept track of the number of compressions.

“Stopped,” Bill responded.

“Infusion?”

“About to hang the second bag!” Joan replied. 

“Another epi push, Martha!” he commanded.

“On it, but doctor...” Martha offered gently. “Why don’t you let one of us take over compressions?”

John looked at his colleague and friend, all the muscles in his body tense with fear. “One more round,” he begged. “Please… I have to try…”

Martha nodded and stood back, letting him continue with the breaths and compressions. He tried to keep measured, even pressure despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and only stopped when the defibrillator warned that it was analyzing her heart rhythm.

“Come on,” he muttered, watching the monitors. “ _Come on_...”

“Shock advised,” the machine said, having _finally_ detected a rhythm.

John staggered back and sagged against the wall in relief as the heart monitor came to life in front of him. Once again, he called for the staff to stand clear as Rose’s heart received another shock. Her pulse was still slow and weak, but as he examined her from a foot away, hope began to blossom in his chest. 

“Normal rhythm,” the machine chirped. “No shock advised.”

For the second time that night, a collective sigh of relief rushed through the entire examination room as the heart monitor began beeping out steadily. John turned back to the screen that was monitoring Rose’s vital signs and examined it carefully. Her blood pressure was looking better as the donor blood traveled through her veins, and though her pulse was still slow, it was steadily rising up to a slightly more acceptable number.

The relief he felt was like a vice being released from around his chest. He heaved in a full, deep breath of air as the tension he held both internally and externally subsided, unable to remember how long it had been since he'd been able to actually fill his lungs.

But Rose was going to be okay. She _had_ to be.

“Right! Good work, everyone! Brilliant, really! _Molto bene!_ Your best yet!” he choked out the cheerful praise. “Martha, Joan, would you be able to handle getting her to CT to make sure no vital organs were damaged before you stitch up her wounds? I have to… erm… go order her prescriptions and tests...”

He floundered a bit with his excuse, but both Joan’s and Martha’s gazes turned sympathetic. “Go on, Dr. Smith,” Joan prodded. “Do what you have to do. We’ll take it from here.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, pulling off his gown and gloves before stepping into the hallway. He walked on shaky legs to the blissfully empty locker room and collapsed onto the cold metal bench that ran through the center of the room. He ran his hands through his hair, resting his elbows on his knees as he drew in several deep breaths before pushing back up and moving over to one of the sinks to scrub furiously at his hands. 

Rose would be fine; the fact that the bleeding had stopped was an excellent indicator that she was out of danger for the moment, but they had to be thorough. If any vital systems had been punctured, she would need surgery to fix them, and that would prolong her stay and cause a greater potential for complications.

Suddenly, his hands started shaking violently under the running water, the adrenaline crash overtaking him without warning as he fumbled with the taps and sat back down on the bench. His entire body trembled as he thought of the myriad of ways things could have gone wrong without warning, how they could potentially _still_ go wrong. He shut his eyes and pressed his palms firmly against them as image after image assaulted him: Rose lying on an operating table as they repaired her punctured lung; Rose contracting an infection in her wounds that raged ahead despite the broad spectrum antibiotics he would surely prescribe; or Rose being permanently confined to a wheelchair because of irreparable nerve damage. 

John wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the visions slowed enough for him to stand without his legs feeling like jelly. The need to see Rose had suddenly overtaken every other thought in his body, and in mere moments he’d managed to dress in clean scrubs and was on his way back to the nurse’s station. He ordered her testing and medications quickly, double checking briefly for accuracy before heading to the radiology department.

******

Martha, precious gem that she was, had called in several favors to get coverage for the rest of John’s shift. They both tried to phone Jackie while Rose was getting her CT scan, but she didn’t answer, likely because of the late hour. He left her a reassuring message that Rose was recovering and wasn’t alone and to come to the hospital as soon as she was able. 

He looked at Martha and saw his relief reflected in her eyes when Rose's scan came back clear of any damage to her vital organs. Shortly after he finally signed off on her paperwork that would transfer her out of his care , the transporters moved her to the trauma unit to keep an eye on her for signs of internal bleeding and infection.

The staff members in the trauma unit were absolutely brilliant, pulling her over to the bed from the stretcher in a seamless motion, and Johnstepped out of the room so her assigned nurse could do his assessment. He slumped against the wall and rubbed his tired eyes. Though he was used to the night shift, the intensity of the evening had left him completely drained, mentally and physically, and he longed for the carefree oblivion that came hand-in-hand with sleeping next to Rose. Although some of the heavy weight in his chest had lifted once Rose had been deemed stable enough for a regular room, he still desperately wanted to hold her, to hug her, and to breathe in her scent so he could reassure himself that she was, indeed, still with him.

He’d passed her off to a trauma attending he only knew in passing, but the physician had a fantastic reputation among the staff, and he was confident Rose would be in perfectly capable hands. She was being flooded with antibiotics and sedatives along with pain medication with the hope that she would sleep through the worst of her trauma. Already, her skin was regaining some of it’s lovely pink color and if everything continued to heal well, she would be discharged in a few days. 

And yet… the nagging terror of nearly losing her still buzzed under his skin, and all he wanted in the world was to be by her side.

Her nurse, a young man named Jamie, stepped out of the room just as he was considering a complete abuse of his hospital credentials and forcing his way inside. John pushed off the wall and met him close to the door.

“Dr. Smith,” he greeted, holding out his hand for a firm, comforting hand shake. “You did some marvellous work in there. She looks great.”

He raised an eyebrow at Jamie, who chuckled. “Sorry, great is sort of a subjective term up here. She looks better than anyone else I’ve cared for under similar circumstances. You should be very proud.”

John scoffed. “Me? Nah, that’s just Rose. Doing six impossible things before breakfast, as usual.” He blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Blimey, it’s been quite a night, hasn’t it?”

“Too right it has,” Jamie replied. “You must be exhausted. Now that I’ve finished my assessment you can go in anytime. I’ve set up the sofa with fresh linens. Don’t hesitate to ring out if you need anything. We’ll be in every four hours for vitals but if she needs anything before then, don’t be shy, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.” He clapped the younger man on the shoulder, grateful beyond words that he was being granted unrestricted access to his love, no abuse of his credentials required. “Thank you, Jamie, you’ve been absolutely brilliant.”

“Of course I have.” He gave John a cheeky smile before shaking his hand once again and heading back to the nurse’s station. 

John let out a deep sigh before entering Rose’s dimly-lit room. The only sounds were the regular, low beeping of her heart monitor and slight hiss of oxygen as it pumped into her nasal cannula.

His heart _ached_ at the view of her still, pale form. Though her color had improved, her cheeks lacked the lovely glow that he’d grown so accustomed to. Her hair was damp and combed back off her face, the nurses and their assistants having given her a thorough sponge bath before she’d been transferred to her current room, but her face was peaceful and the steady rise and fall of her chest calmed his frayed nerves more than anything else.

He noticed a small bundle of pillows and blankets sitting on the room’s narrow sofa, but John instead opted for the recliner next to her bed once again, shaking his head with a small smile when the thought of it being “his” chair came to him. He pulled it alongside Rose, taking her bandaged hand between both of his as he drank in her features.

“We need to stop making a habit of this,” he finally spoke, his voice cracking on the words. “Can’t very well spend the rest of my life with you if you’re constantly stuck in the hospital.”

The echo of her lovely, musical laugh filled his head even as she remained asleep. He stared at her in silence for a long few minutes before speaking again. “I’m sorry, Rose. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should have taken that sick day, I should have pressed harder to get that protective order against that wanker, I should have insisted you stay at my flat…”

He trailed off as the tears that had been building in his eyes threatened to spill over. He swallowed against the lump in his throat before he continued. “I can’t believe I almost lost you. It was a complete fluke that I didn’t. I froze, I panicked, I let the past control me, and I lost precious moments that could have meant your life. I’m sorry. You deserve better than me, but I’ll never stop being grateful that you chose me despite that.”

He removed one hand from hers, reaching up to brush a lock of drying hair off her forehead. He let his fingers linger against the blonde strands before stroking them gently down to cup her cheek. “I’m not holding back anymore. You deserve to know how I feel about you. I should have told you the minute I realized it. But I thought we’d have _time_. I thought we had the rest of our lives for me to tell you everything you mean to me.”

He swallowed against the words that were sitting on the tip of his tongue. “But not now. Because telling you now when you're unconscious and can’t hear me implies that you might not wake up. Which you will, Rose Tyler. You’re going to wake up to be your own brilliant self; gorgeous, kind, and oh, _so_ alive.”

He traced his thumb over her lips and smiled at the memory of kissing her mere hours before. He vowed never again to let a day go by without kissing her as often as she would let him.

“I’ll tell you then,” he vowed. “Because, the first time I say it, you deserve to _hear_ the words.”

******

John awoke the next morning to the familiar sensation of slender fingers threading gently through his hair. He let out a happy noise from the back of his throat, a noise that was becoming a regular part of his repertoire after having fallen asleep next to Rose so often over the past several weeks. The lovely tingling sensations made the transition from sleep to waking far more enjoyable.

What _wasn’t_ enjoyable was the odd crick in his neck and the scratchy cotton blanket his cheek was resting on.

“John,” Rose’s voice croaked out weakly.

His head shot up and he winced, the pain in his neck intensifying briefly before it was completely forgotten. Every ounce of concentration he possessed was tuned into the pair of hazel eyes that were crinkled in mild amusement at him.

“We really need to stop meeting like this,” she managed to say before breaking into a cough, her face contorted in pain. He was on his feet in a flash, grabbing a spare pillow and pressing it against her abdomen, encouraging her arms to encircle it as her coughing fit subsided.

“Thanks. Blimey,” she said, eagerly accepting the water he offered her. After a few sips, she glanced around the hospital room. “What the hell am I doing back here?”

“You don’t remember what happened? They brought you in last night, you were…”He trailed off, the memory of her lying on the table with no heartbeat rendering him speechless once again. 

She covered his hand with hers, her nose wrinkled in confusion before realization dawned in her eyes.“Jimmy,” she breathed out. “That… bloody… _wanker_!”

John stared at her before a weak laugh escaped his lips. “Sorry… what?”

“He came at me with a knife, that arsehole! I got a few good ones in though, got him right in the head with a brick or something. He’s gonna have a hell of a headache when he wakes up… What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

John knew he must have been gaping at her with the world’s most dumbstruck expression on his face. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or scream or maybe both, but instead he opted for cupping the back of her head and pulling her in for a desperate kiss.

The feeling of her warm lips on his was like a balm to his very soul, soothing his frayed nerves and making him feel whole again. He hadn’t realized how much he was still affected, even after reassuring himself all night that her heart was still pumping and her breaths were steady and strong.

“Mmmm,” she murmured after he’d broken the kiss, but kept his forehead pressed gently to hers. “Keep that up and I’ll have to wind up here more often.”

“Rose,” he choked out, threading the fingers of one hand in her hair, “don’t say that, _please_. You don’t…”

“What happened, John?”

He pulled his head back and drank in her face. She was so beautiful, somehow even more than usual despite the slight lack of color and the small scratches marring her normally smooth skin. “Oh, _Rose_... you _died_. You were on the table in front of me and you were losing too much blood. You started arresting, we tried to shock your heart into a normal rhythm but it _stopped_. You were lying there without a heart beat and…”

He shook his head and gathered her in his arms, letting out a shuddering breath as he held her as close as he dared without causing her more pain. She did the same, as much as the various tubes in her arms would allow, and pressed her face against his chest.

“And you saved me, didn’t you?” she murmured.

“I almost _couldn’t_ ,” he admitted. “All I could see for a minute there was Dr. Song, and I froze. If Martha hadn’t been there to kick me in the arse, I don’t know what would have happened.”

“You still would have saved me.”

He chuckled weakly. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Never.”

He pulled back once again before cupping her face in both hands, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones as his heart swelled up with love once again. He smiled, finally, for the first time since she woke up, and he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“I love you.”

Rose’s grin widened and her eyes suddenly turned misty. “You do?”

“I do,” he admitted. “I only just realized it yesterday, but to be perfectly honest, I think I’ve loved you since the moment I saw Martha wheeling you towards me at the funeral. I love you, and I don’t care if it’s too soon or too quick, you deserve to know.”

Her hands came up to cover his as she turned to press a kiss to his palm. “Good. Because I love you, too.”

Her words settled into him, warming parts of his soul that he didn’t even know he had. His own lips stretched to match hers, and as he pulled her in for another kiss, he knew down in his bones that no matter what, as long as they were together, they could do _anything_.

He pulled out of the kiss with a sharp breath through his nose, clutching her as close as he could and resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closed against the onslaught of emotions that overtook him. “Please, don’t leave me,” he begged, his voice raw and desperate.

“Don’t worry, you’re stuck with me,” Rose told him, her voice low and thick but also gently teasing, making him smile.

“Yeah?” he asked. “And how long are you gonna stay with me?”

Rose pulled back just enough that she could reach up and frame his face with her hands. Her gaze met his, her eyes damp but shining with emotion.

“Forever.”


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little sneak peek into John and Rose’s life three years later!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I haven’t finished a multi chapter fic in FOREVER and it feels GREAT! I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your wonderfully supportive comments and kudos, the love and patience of my fabulous beta (TenRoseForeverandEver), and the wonderful prompt that DoctorRoseTennant threw at me! It’s only 9 months later, but happy birthday, darling!
> 
> I have some ideas for little fluffy one-shots that I might tackle in the future. So I’m not closing the book on these little love bugs yet. They’re too damn cute!

Dr. John Smith sat on his bed, ankles crossed and legs swinging happily as he watched his absolutely _stunning_ fiancée dress for her best friends’ engagement party. His breath caught in his throat as she swept her hair up off her neck, and he wondered, once again, what he could have possibly done for the universe to be so kind as to bring Rose into his life.

The last three years had been nothing short of completely and utterly _brilliant_. Ever since Rose had been discharged from the hospital for the second time, she hadn’t needed another trip to A&E, and John was grateful that his jeopardy-friendly girl didn’t have to worry about her safety any more. Not long after the attack, Jimmy Stone had been found guilty of attempted murder and, despite the wanker’s protestations, and surely encouraged by his general unpleasantness as a person, had earned himself a life sentence in prison. 

Not wanting to waste any of the precious time they had together, John immediately asked Rose to be his girlfriend and no relationship had ever been so effortless. They just _fit_ , Rose a soothing balm to his chaotic mind, and John helping her realize that she was, in fact, completely brilliant and capable of doing more than she’d ever imagined.

Rose earned her teaching credentials in art, and had finally moved in with him about a year prior, after _months_ of him shamelessly begging her to do so. Until recently, he’d been convinced life couldn’t get any better. He saw Rose nearly every day, and finding her at home, waiting for him after those long, hard shifts at the hospital, offering a soothing head massage and a sympathetic ear was more than he deserved.

Suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to hold her, he moved off the bed and wrapped both arms around her waist from behind. “And how are the loves of my life?”

Rose giggled, leaning back into his embrace as she finished fiddling with an earring. “Starving. Mickey better have chips there like he promised. She can’t get enough of them lately.”

He let his arms rest on the soft swell of Rose’s belly, letting the warm contentment spread through him as he nuzzled her neck. “You know, we really ought to tell your mum. You’re starting to show.”

Rose sighed. “I know, but not tonight. I don’t want to take anything away from Mickey and Martha’s engagement party. We’re supposed to be celebrating _them_ , not us.”

“I think you’ll find that people will be capable of both,” he replied. “But I suppose you’re right. Besides, I’m quite fond of my wobbly bits and I know your mum is going to hack them off when she finds out.”

“Considering this is all your fault, it will be well-deserved.”

“Oi!” he protested, affronted. “How was I supposed to know that antibiotics can interfere with the effectiveness of contraceptives?”

“You’re a _doctor_ , John.”

He huffed. ”In my defense, you were naked. I can’t even remember my own _name_ when you’re naked, let alone the failure rate of oral contraceptives when taken with a course of Rifampin.”

Rose giggled, turning in his arms so she could rest her head against John’s chest and let out a contented sigh. “Mum’s gonna say we should get married before the baby is born.”

“Rose Tyler,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ll marry you right this second. Just say the word.”

He felt her grin against his shirt. “But then we’ll miss the party.”

“We could fly to Vegas tonight,” he replied. “Come back in a few days, with lots of happy news for your mum.”

“I would quite like it if you were alive for the birth of our child, thanks.” She leaned up and captured his lips in a sweet, sensuous kiss that ordinarily would have him pressing her against the wall and working out the best way to remove her clothes, but lately, he’d tried to be mindful of the tiny baby bump that was pressing against him. Instead, he kept his hand firmly on the small of her back, gripping the material of her dress as they mutually deepened the kiss.

“I love you,” he breathed out in a reverent whisper when she finally pulled away. He didn’t let her go far, keeping his grasp on her and pressing his forehead tenderly to hers. “I love you, and I love our baby, and I love our _brilliant_ life together.”

“Five more months until it’s even more brilliant than ever before.” Rose pulled back and grinned at him. “You ready for this adventure?”

“Rose Tyler,” he murmured. “As long as I have you, I’m ready for _any_ adventure.”

He continued to hold her as tight as he dared, swaying them gently back and forth and, not for the first time in the last few years, he marveled at how perfectly content he was.

“Remind me one more time, how long are you gonna stay with me?” he murmured into her hair. 

He’d asked her so many times over the course of their relationship, and he never tired of hearing her answer. On cue, she glanced up with him, her smile bright and her eyes misty.

“ _Forever_.”


End file.
